


When you were young

by phisen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9313955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/pseuds/phisen
Summary: Fifteen years ago, Yuuri and Victor went their separate ways after the Grand Prix Final. By chance, they meet again. Being older and much more fragile.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [TenchiKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenchiKai/pseuds/TenchiKai) has made a lovely playlist for this story, with as many tracks as there are chapters. Please listen to it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/1210030879/playlist/6GUj1R7C3Nx0SgC3sB2q4c) :)

"Are you coming, Katsuki? We're going to be late!"

"I'm not quite done here, I'm sorry. You go on ahead. It doesn't matter to me if I'm late."

"Okay, but... fine, here's your ticket. See you afterwards?"

"I'm not sure... thanks, Kitagawa. I'll see you guys there!"

Yuuri watched his coworkers hurry out of the office, not thinking twice about leaving him with unfinished bookkeeping.

"The JSF Invitational Gala Show, huh?" Yuuri put the ticket in his shirt pocket. Fifteen years ago, he'd been a skater too. With only one good season under his belt, he had quickly been forgotten once he decided to retire. He tried hard not to remember that time of his life. Almost every day.

* * *

Living in Tokyo suited him fine. It was easy to blend in, easy to keep oneself occupied. Also, it was easy to go back home, to Hasetsu.

Yuuri sighed when he saw what time it was on his computer. It has started already. He saved his work and decided that he should return to the office once the show was done in order to finish up. He gathered his things, put on his jacket and exited the office.

The rink was very close, within walking distance. Yuuri pushed his glasses further up on the brigde of his nose when he crossed the street and hurried down a couple of blocks.

_There it is. No queue, lucky me._ Yuuri scanned his ticket and went inside.

His coworkers were in high spirits, motioning him to come over as he walked down the stairs.

"Seats by the player entrance, Katsuki! That's so cool, right? Sit, sit!"

Yuuri sat down. On the ice was a girl from Japan, apparently an audience favorite. Her somersault got a standing ovation. Tricks will always be the highlight of any gala or exhibition, no exceptions there. Male skaters doing power moves, female skaters pushing their athleticism to the limit.

The Japanese skater went off the rink and another skater went in. Male this time. The announcer presented him, Yuuri never caught the name, but heard that he was from France.

"He's paying homage to the routine that made him interested in skating", echoed the voice of the announcer.

Yuuri froze in his seat. The music. An aria sung in Italian by a tenor. A lament about loneliness. About cutting the throats of people singing about love.

"Ueda," Yuuri blurted out to his female coworker sitting next to him, "Excuse me. I'll be back, I just need to..."

Yuuri stood up and continued to walk down the stairs, knowing very well that it was easier to access the restrooms from down below. He had to get there, and quick. He felt his pulse going up, his throat clench, his vision getting blurry.

_I knew I shouldn't have come here._

* * *

Standing hunched over the basin, gripping the edges with both hands. Almost hyperventilating. Feeling sick.

_Breathe. Breathe! Take control!_

Yuuri sank to the floor, gripping the basin with one hand and covering his mouth with the other. _Why? Why, why, why, why, why?_

He'd been disconnected from the world of skating for so long and when he finally gave in to humor his coworkers, he had to be reminded of the past. The irony. The goddamn irony of it all. Memories he thought he'd locked away clawed at him from the inside. Feelings connected to the memories took over.

He sobbed, covering his mouth even harder. Trying to press down whatever wanted to emerge from the deepest, most fragile parts of himself. He really didn't want this. He wanted to forget. Desperately wanted to forget. Needed to forget!

He wasn't sure how long he'd been trying to get a hold of himself. It felt like an eternity, but it could have been mere minutes, too. As he felt the anxiety ebb out, he stood up. Still not letting go of the basin. Not trusting himself.

_No way I'm going back out there. I can't._

He took off his glasses and splashed some water on his face. The water evaporated slowly, leaving a cool feeling behind. He felt stupid relishing the sensation, but it was the only thing he had going for him. He grabbed a paper towel and patted the excess water away.

_I need to go. I need to get out of here._

He put his glasses back on, and gave himself a brief look in the mirror. "Pathetic," he said to himself.

* * *

He opened the door to the restroom slowly, peering out, making sure he was alone. He breathed a sigh of relief. No one there. He checked his watch. Half an hour left of the show. _How to get out without going back up... think!_

Yuuri started to walk down the corridor, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor. It would be mortifying if he showed his face to anyone while being so unstable.

He turned right, knowing that the staircase up ahead would take him to the entrance. It would be easy to slip out once he got up there. Some people came down the stairs, a few paces ahead. He instinctively pressed himself against the wall, letting them pass without acknowledging them.

As he heard their steps grow weaker as they turned around the corner behind him, he dared to look up. No one there. _Just go up the stairs and get out. Do it._ He took a deep breath, steeled himself and started to walk.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he exclaimed as he bumped into the person coming around the corner to the left. He kept on walking, suddenly noticing that the person he bumped into had stopped a few steps behind him. He looked over his shoulder, just to make sure that everything was okay.

"I'm sorry, are you..."

_It can't be. It. Can't. Be._

* * *

Yuuri staggered backwards, needing the wall for support. _No. No. No! Please, no!_

"Yuu...ri?"

_Please, don't. Please don't come any closer!_

"Yuuri?!"

He couldn't say anything. Barely do anything. His breathing shifted gears, turning into shivering inhales and exhales. He felt his insides tremble. He tried to push his glasses into place, but he couldn't lift his arm.

As if commanded by something, he raised his head, knowing very well what the consequences would be. Yes. It was definitely him. Older. More... dignified? The same blue eyes and silver hair.

He wailed as he sunk to the floor.

"Victor!"

Discarding anything that resembled composure, he wept. Cried. Screamed. He wasn't sure if it was out of fear or longing. His worst nightmare or most pleasant dream coming true. To haunt him or to console him.

He felt him close. Close without touching him. Respectfully keeping his distance. Oh, how he wanted to be touched. Just like before. The sudden hand on his shoulder felt like a vice, even though he was barely touched.

"I..." A hesitation in his voice? Was he as uncomfortable? "Can I... can you stand?" No. There was a warmness to his voice. A warmness with a slight hint of sorrow. "I'm staying nearby. Please... Can I take you there?"

* * *

He couldn't remember a single thing. Nothing, whatsoever. When he came to, he found himself sitting on the edge of a bed, holding a paper cup. It was empty, but he couldn't recall if he had anything do drink. His throat felt dry. Shriveled up.

Opposite him, standing on one knee but not touching him was the man he once had considered to be his one true love.

He felt the cup leave his hands. A soft, unintentional touch. He saw him move, just outside his field of view. Realising he was pulling up a chair. Sitting down in front of him. Holding his hands.

He dared to look up at him. Yes. The same blue eyes and silver hair. Only shorter. Some fine lines around his eyes. Other than that, it seemed like time had stood still.

He removed his glasses and put them next to him on the bed, before... Before putting his hand back between his? It felt so natural. So familiar. Tears burned his eyes again.

"Oh..." He saw them land on _his_ hands. So awkward this was. He felt him touch his upper arm. A consoling move, for sure.

"I have been fantasizing about this very moment. Many times. For so long." His voice sounded the same, too. "But... I always thought we would enjoy it more." He sighed a little, and resumed cradling his hands.

"What happened to us, Victor?" Yuuri met his eyes. They seemed calm.

"What happened? We happened to us, I guess."

Victor's phone rang on the desk behind him. He looked at it, contemplating as if he should answer it or not.

"Sorry. I'll be quick." He swiped to answer. "Oui, Julien? Ah, pardon. Oui, c'est correct. Non, allez-y. Okay. Au revoir." He turned the phone off. "Sorry. My student," he said apologetically.

_So he's still coaching._

"How is he? Your student?" _Ridiculous question._

"He's okay. He's got nerves of steel but he's lazy. He thinks success is something that magically gets handed to you for some reason. I blame his parents." Victor paused. "I've missed you, Yuuri."

His words felt like a gunshot, one that went through and through. He really wanted to answer from the heart, but it felt as if it would bleed out if he allowed himself to. Sadly, his heart had decided to be in charge.

"And I've missed you. Terribly." He covered his face with his hands. _This hurts too much. I shouldn't be here. But I want to._

"Yuuri..."

He felt his hands on him. On his arms. On his shoulders. On his back. The embrace was tentative. Carefully executed, with the intent of letting go if any resistance would surface. Yuuri felt dizzy.

Almost hating himself for doing it, he reciprocated. He wanted to forget what they once had. Resting his head against Victor's shoulder made it impossible. Especially since the embrace grew mutually tighter.


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe it was a stupid move, not telling him off. Letting him hold him like that. Still, Yuuri knew that he had answered to his touch on his own accord. He had put his head on his shoulder. Seeking to be close to him.

It was like they were on edge. Carefully adapting to each other's movements, not being the one that lingered. Not being prepared to deal with everything it would entail. Not now. They simultaneously got free. Slowly, as if making sure it was what the other one wanted.

Yuuri let Victor hold his hands, resuming the touch from before. That touch was safe.

"What is the proper thing to say in a situation like this, I wonder?" Victor shook his head.

Yuuri didn't answer. He desperately wished he could think of anything. He saw Victor looking at him, even though he had his eyes fixed on their hands. He couldn't meet his eyes. In that particular moment, he felt fragile. As if not only his heart was made of glass.

"How come you were down there, Yuuri? Not watching the skating?"

_If you only knew, Victor._

To Yuuri, he felt as if he was waging a war. A war against emotions, against words. A war against his own body. Against his own will. He felt himself gripping Victor's hands, tighter. He regretted it immediately.

Victor responded with small caress on the back of his hand, as to validate him. "Do you need some water? Something else?"

"Water's fine." Barely audible. With restraint. Trying hard not to make it uncomfortable.

Victor stood up and went over to the small fridge next to the bed. Yuuri dared to look up, for just a second, seeing Victor lean in and picking out a bottle. He averted his eyes again. He heard him twist off the cap and pour the water.

"Here." Victor put a coffee cup in his hands, closing them with his own. He kept holding on to him like that, until he drank. Just a sip. Then, welcoming his trembling hands back into his own.

"I couldn't stand it." Yuuri knew that he delivered a very late answer. "I just couldn't."

* * *

"It's strange, isn't it? We were a part of that life once. Together." Victor reminisced. "Is that why you couldn't stand it?"

Something in Victor's words had an impact on him. The reaction was instant. His defences crumbled. The shaking that started on the inside got out, somehow. Acted like it was a ripple that spread itself on the surface of a pool. Made by a thousand drops of rain.

_How can he break through me like that? So easily?_

He felt Victor remove the cup from his hands. Yuuri, afraid of losing himself, gripped Victor's wrists. It seemed to be a contest. Would the world spin out of control with him not being able to hold on, or would his own shaking render him into nothing? He leaned over, put his head in Victor's hands. He wanted to be grounded.

Yuuri felt Victor's cheek on his head, as he desperately tried to breathe. Tried to find solace somewhere.

 _This is spiralling out of control._ Every interaction between them became more intimate. It scared him. It empowered him. _Please, don't touch me like that. I don't know what to do._

"Is this okay?" Victor's voice was nothing but a whisper. Yuuri wasn't sure during the seconds that followed if Victor had said anything at all. But, he managed to nod. Relishing the closeness. Loathing the possible outcome.

* * *

His smell. It was like falling into the sea. Instead of a never-ending wetness, there were memories. Pouring in from everywhere, leaving no place or space untouched. Victor felt intoxicated, as if being drunk on the sweetest wine.

Being close to him, finally. It felt surreal. During the years that passed, he'd been prepared to come to him. To his beck and call. He'd gone through days upon days, waiting. Hoping. The constant yearning had been watered down, though, and had become a secret wish. A wish that made itself known, only in his loneliest moments.

He thought that he'd prepared himself for this, playing out scenario after scenario in his head since they parted. This, however, was new. He felt unprepared.

As he felt the billowing cease underneath him, his palms wet from either tears or distraught exhales, he spoke. Into his hair, like many times before.

"What do we do now?"

The question echoed in the room. He wasn't planning on getting an answer. It was his own hopes and frustrations that needed it to be voiced out in the open.

He felt Yuuri shift. He found himself tense up, making sure that he wouldn't be in the way or restrain him if he wanted to sit upright. _I'll do anything you want._

Yuuri's grip around his wrists disappeared. Victor still wanted to touch him. Be touched by him. But he respected Yuuri's desicion to retract from him, putting his hands on his knees before he unfurled.

They sat vis-à-vis. Making eye contact. Breaking it. Not being able to sustain it for more than a moment at a time.

"You look the same." Victor laughed, a one-syllable kind of laugh. "I couldn't believe it when I saw you."

"You too." Yuuri's response was barely audible. A small smile shadowed his face.

"You know... I'm... I'm leaving tomorrow, Yuuri." He clenched his fists. He found himself desperate for a reaction in those dark brown eyes.

"Oh..."

"Therefore, I was hoping that..." _You would like to stay. Until then._ "We could talk."

* * *

Yuuri sat silent for a while. He felt Victor's eyes on him, studying him. Waiting patiently for an answer.

He felt ambivalent. His heart and mind were trying to cull each other, making him unsure. What would be the purpose of staying? To talk? To wallow in things that once were? To get... closure? He felt his heart sting. _How is it possible to close something that's wide open?_

Going, then? What would be the purpose of that? To prevent himself from getting even more heartbroken? To just continue? Continue, just like before? _I don't know if I can. Not now._

"Okay." His decision was made. "We can talk. At least for a little while."

To Yuuri, it seemed like Victor's whole demeanor changed. He seemed more relaxed. Relieved. _He wants me to be here. He was prepared to see me go._

"Hungry?"

Yuuri snapped out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Do you want something to eat?" Victor was already standing with the phone reciever in his hand.

"I... sure, thank you."

"Salad okay?"

"I don't mind."

Yuuri stood up and headed for the bathroom. He heard Victor place the order as he closed the door. He just needed some time alone. Without him being near him.

He sat down on the toilet, tried to rally his thoughts. _What would be acceptable to talk about? What would be acceptable to say? What would be off limits? Should I be open? Should I protect myself?_

His mind started to race even more. _Do I want him to touch me? Can I touch him? Are we just going to talk? Do I want more? Does he want more? Can I? Should I?_

As he prepared to exit the bathroom, feeling more confused than before, his innermost feelings decided to speak. Forcing him to say it out loud to himself. "Why can't it be the way it was?"

* * *

Victor felt his heart skip a beat as Yuuri walked past him. Brushing up to him, unintentionally. He'd missed this. He'd missed him.

"Are you okay?" He placed himself in the chair after Yuuri sat down on the bed.

"I'm fine."

Again, that awkward silence.

"I want to ask you something, Yuuri. A stupid question, maybe." He leaned in a little, placed himself on the edge of the seat. Tried to see how Yuuri would respond. It seemed like he accepted him a bit closer. Their knees were almost touching.

Victor knew that, in order for his question to be accepted and answered, he needed to be close to him. He also knew that it could go either way. That he would possibly burn this final bridge as a result. But he had to know. He could ask a thousand other questions, but this would be the one that mattered the most.

He took a deep breath, and searched for Yuuri's eyes. He was ready. "The rings we got in Barcelona, what were they to you?"


	3. Chapter 3

A barrage. That's what his words were. There was no other way to explain it. He felt his cheeks heat up. Not from being embarrassed. He felt angry. Furious. And as always when stronger emotions came into play, Yuuri became lachrymose.

"Wow. Wow, Victor." He wiped a tear from his cheek, feeling strangely humiliated. By the question itself, but also by his own reaction.

Seeing Victor sitting calmly, keeping the eye contact, pushed him over the edge. _I can't believe you. I can't believe you just did that._

"This was a bad idea. Excuse me." He grabbed his glasses as he stood up, expecting Victor to get out of the way. He remained seated, with his head tilted back slightly. Still keeping the eye contact. It made him boil.

 _Don't you dare look at me like that._ "Move. I said move."

Victor responded by standing up. Standing close. Too close. It was like a challenge in so many different ways, and Yuuri felt threatened. Victor's blue eyes disclosed nothing of what he was feeling or thinking.

Yuuri looked away, feeling like he'd lost a battle and a war at the same time. As he tried to push himself past Victor, he grabbed his arm.

"Stay."

Yuuri couldn't make himself look at Victor. He tried hard to steady his voice. At least it would give himself some kind of satisfaction to sound like he was in control. "Let go of me."

He felt Victor tilt his chin upwards, forcing them to look at each other. His fingers felt like fire on his skin. And at the same time, like a panacea to ease the burn. Strange how it works.

"I'm asking you to stay."

Victor's breath caressed his cheek. It became his undoing.

* * *

Those dark brown eyes wanted to get away. Adamant about not resting upon his for even a second. That concerned him. Hurt him, even. So, he tilted his head up. Asked him to stay. Hoping that his actions would appease him.

He was wrong.

He became devastated instead. The clenched teeth visible underneath the parted lips, the droplets of emotions that hit his fingers and the eyes that still wanted to look away made him falter. But he wanted to know. Needed to know.

His hand was forcefully pushed away. The sensation lingered on the back of it, where he'd touched him. But it awoke something else, too. Something that had been slumbering off and on for quite some time. The feeling of being rejected by someone you cannot be without. Something within him started to stir.

He felt his grip around Yuuri's arm tighten. _You're not going anywhere. Not until..._

"How dare you!"

 _What?_ His words felt like lashes on naked skin.

"How dare you invade me like this! Hurt me like this!"

He almost softened his grip around his arm. _You really know where to hit for it to hurt, don't you? You're relentless, Yuuri._

"Calm down." Victor was surprised that he sounded so levelled. He felt something else entirely on the inside. He leaned in a little, hoping that the small gesture would calm them both. The warmth from Yuuri's body gave him an instant high. "I just asked you a question. I think you should calm yourself and answer it."

It was a blatant leap over boundaries he shouldn't have crossed, resulting in a raw display of emotions. He'd only seen him this distraught twice before. His mind scrambled to show the images of those moments. A parking garage and, of course, when it ended. Victor knew that this particular moment would become added to the already horrid collection.

He wasn't sure if it was what he said or what he did that made Yuuri fight himself out of his grip. When he did, Victor was quick to catch him again. By the shoulder this time. But it was as if he still fought. Fought for his life, fought to get away. It made Victor feel like he walked on the edge between compsure and panic, not knowing what to do to disarm the situation.

"Yuuri! Stop this!" His fingers dug in a bit too much, a desperate act on his part. _Stay!_ His voice became too harsh. _Please!_ In that moment, Victor knew he'd lost. Even though a stillness suddenly covered the room like a soft blanket of snow.

"I'm going now." Yuuri's voice was low. Strained, almost. He shrugged off Victor's hand from his shoulder. "I knew this was a mistake."

Victor's heart shattered when Yuuri passed him. He wanted to say something. Anything. Everything. But he couldn't make a sound. The only thing he could do was watch as a chapter of his life came to a definite close.

"I just can't keep you inside of me anymore. Take care."

And with that, Yuuri exited the room. Leaving behind a shadow of a man.

* * *

As soon as he heard the door close behind him, Yuuri had to sit down on the floor. It felt unreal, dissociative almost. Like he'd been watching himself act in a play. Intellectually, he knew that what happened within those walls was indeed real. Emotionally, it felt like a dream. No, a nightmare.

He felt that sensation again. The sensation of drowning from within. His heart pounded faster. His throat became rigid. His lost his ability to focus. And the violent shaking that made his breathing a struggle crashed over him like a tidal wave. He felt sick. _I really am going to drown._

He wiped his eyes. _What did I just do? This is not what I... wanted?_

 _The rings._ The question had pushed him into a state of mind he was unfamiliar with. The question had made him act like coming up with an answer was a matter of life or death, and... maybe it was? He couldn't understand why, but not answering had felt like the most important choice he had made in a very long time.

He knew the answer to the question, though. In all honesty, deep down, he did. But as that thought started to claw inside his mind, trying to coax him into bringing it out, teasing him with its consequences, a small sob escaped his lips. And he realised that he wasn't ready. Thinking he never would be.

He stood up, put on his jacket and walked down the corridor. Felt his pockets. _I can't be here for a second longer._ Again, wiping his eyes. Again, feeling nothing and everything at the same time. Felt himself being tossed between the two extremes, as his fingers gently trailed the wall for some kind of support.

He hesitated, but forced himself to call for the lift. The red outline of the button glared. As he waited, he couldn't stop himself from looking down that corridor. _How I want to go back._ His thoughts came to an abrupt stop as the lift dinged and the doors opened.

"I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

As the door closed itself with a soft click, he was gone. Just like that. Victor stood frozen in disbelief. Trying to gather his thoughts. Himself. _What just happened? He was here, wasn't he?_

Yes. It was like nothing had happened there, inside those four walls, just mere seconds ago. Although, his words lingered in the room. 'I just can't keep you inside of me anymore.' _Yes, he was here. He still is._

He walked the few strides it took to stand in front of the bed. He decided to sit back down, in the same chair, although he felt an aversion to everything that had to do with this particular room. The bed spread was slightly crumpled where he'd been sitting. He smoothed it out. Just like that.

Putting his head in his hands, he couldn't stop himself from going through what had happened during the last couple of hours. How disbelief turned into concern. How concern turned into joy. How joy turned into longing. How longing turned into desperation. And again, disbelief. Like nothing had happened at all, when it definitely had. Leaving behind a wound that bled profusely.

He felt emotional. Seeing him, meeting him, it brought on so much. Victor scoffed. He knew that he wasn't done with him, but he thought he could cope with the feelings. He had before, in some miraculous way. But the sensation of him, having him close then letting him go, made it feel like fifteen years ago. Made him feel like he was on the verge of bleeding out.

He was annoyed by the tears, leaving their circular proof on his trousers. _That's all you're going to leave me with, is that it?_ Strangely enough, feeling his very essence react in the way it did made him feel... satisfied? He thought about it for a while. Satisfaction. At least he knew what it meant. That he'd seen him. Touched him. Felt him close.

Even though it hurt, their paths had converged again in some whimsical way. Again, through skating. The love-hate relationship to the sport that had given him so much. The sport that had deprived him of so much more.

He was viciously yanked back to the here and now when he heard a knock on the door. _Right. Room service._ He'd totally forgot about that. Wiping his eyes, he put on his approachable mask. The one he usually wore but constantly chafed. The one everyone wanted to see.

"Thank you for the attentive service." The words were automatic too, they just rolled off his lips without any hestitation as he opened the door. Making sure that they had the right effect, he fired off a smile. No one ever saw through that act, it was perfected. Bullet proof.

And yet, a chink in the armour.

"You don't have to be him. Not with me."

* * *

He knew him too well to let that behaviour pass by unnoticed. He looked surprised by his remark, by his presence. It made him feel empowered. Like he had the upper hand. But was this really a battle? He couldn't tell. Not yet.

_Can... Can I come in?_ He never asked it out loud. It wasn't necessary. As Victor took a step to the side, holding the door, he invited himself in. The click of the door meant something else now. He found himself curious to find out what it might entail.

They looked at each other, standing a few paces apart. Yuuri, further in the room. Victor by the door, still with one hand on the handle. Hesitant, Yuuri walked up to him. He needed to make sure.

They stood as close as before. Exchanging hot, caressing breaths. Not knowing where to go next, what to do. Thinking that there might be one, just one, more try.

Yuuri put his hand on Victor's chest. Tapped his fingers against his collarbone, hidden by his shirt. "I'm so angry with you." Feeling him expand underneath his touch, with every shivering breath, made him heady. _I do want this. This, and nothing else._

"I know." The reply made their lips touch, as Victor pronounced the last syllable. But still, restraint. Uncertainty. Respect.

Their eyes met as soon as they had noticed the unintentional fluttering, both of them trying to read the other as they became reacquainted with the sensation of being so close. _What now?_

Yuuri felt jubilant inside when Victor, albeit askingly, cupped his face in his hands. His blue eyes shivered, Yuuri noticed. His body did too, underneath his hand. The tension made him insecure, self-aware, and ended up making him hold on to Victor's necktie instead. He tried to connect with himself as they stood there, but ended up feeling lost and found at the same time.

"Open up. Give yourself to me. I want to taste you."

Victor's muted words against his lips resounded within him, his body reacting instantly to what he'd been asked. As his heart started to beat harder, his breathing turned shallow, his face heated up, that almost forgotten feeling somewhere inside his stomach flared up. Yes. That raw feeling of desire and lust. _Hello, again._

He separated his lips and welcomed him home. It was soft at first, wary almost. Like they guarded the other, keeping each other safe from what might happen next.

A soft noise escaped Yuuri's lips, a sound of arousal and appreciation. It became the birth of something else, as the kiss instantly became deeper and more intrusive. A hand at the back of his head. Another at the small of his back. Demanding him to be closer, making him feel like he was about to expire. He responded, putting both arms around Victor's neck. Showing him that he indeed wanted to be closer by any means possible.

A knock at the door made them separate. A fine string of saliva broke between them as they parted, leaving a small bead on Victor's lower lip. Reflexively, he licked it off before addressing the person on the other side of the door. The action made Yuuri weak inside.

"Leave it there, please." His voice was clearly affected by their heated interaction, low and somewhat out of breath. "Room service," he told Yuuri. The knocking continued. Victor responded with a laugh, amused by the situation. "Let me open the door, okay? We'll continue, I promise."

* * *

As the footsteps outside grew weaker, they continued. Turned their attention back to where it should be. Again, finding each other. Shifting gears and picking up pace. Getting closer to a breaking point.

Victor dared to push. He slid Yuuri's jacket off his shoulders, somewhat concerned how he would react. When the action was met with the same insatiable hunger as before, he continued with newly found confidence.

"You came from work? You never used to dress in shirts," Victor whispered as he started to undo the buttons. One at a time. He wanted to savor the experience, and proceeded painstakingly slow. He had waited for this, wanted this, for so long.

"Yes," Yuuri breathed. "Let me," he continued as his hands ended up undoing Victor's necktie and aimed to start with the buttons of his shirt.

"Wait. Your hands will get in the way. Just wait." _Be patient. Good. Let me have this._

As more and more of Yuuri became visible, Victor felt inebriated. He wanted to experience every last bit of him. Take him. He put his forehead against Yuuri's shoulder, trying to get his wits about him. Almost feeling destroyed by his internal uproar. Being torn between acting on his impulses and showing restraint.

"Yuuri?" His lips grazed his collarbone as he spoke. "I want you."

"Then... what are you waiting for?"


	5. Chapter 5

He was ignited. By his words, by his presence, by their interaction. But also, by the lingering expectation.

His shirt was undone now, giving him a small preview of the body he had been so familiar with. Still, very lean. Not as fit but just as mesmerizing. He helped him get his hands through the cuffs, enjoying the sound the shirt made as it fell to the floor. There was a totally different air to him now. More confident, it seemed. Something that comes with age and many different experiences. He liked it. He felt curious.

He welcomed him coming close. Tried to stay calm as Yuuri's hands started undoing his shirt. The only time he hated that particular garment was in situations like this. It took so long to take off, even if you hurried the process. He helped himself out of it, afraid that his hands on his naked skin would make him react. He still wasn't sure if it, or anything, was going to happen.

"What's this?" Yuuri's voice was low, his finger trailed the scar underneath his right collarbone.

"I broke it. Ages ago, now." _His touch is making me crazy._

"Oh..." The soft kiss ended with a lick, leaving a cool sensation on the smooth texture.

"Yuuri, I... are you sure?"

"You're talking too much."

Victor scoffed. Maybe he was. He silenced himself with Yuuri's mouth as they merged in a kiss.

"Bed?" He mouthed the words softly, not willing to disengage from his lips. Yuuri hummed in response.

* * *

It was building up. The touches became more focused, the kisses deeper and the breaths shallow. Still, the line remained uncrossed. Yuuri enjoyed this strange arrangement. He was adamant that Victor would have to beg for the line to be crossed. It would be his punishment.

As he straddled him, making sure that he rubbed against Victor in a way that would make himself seem oblivious to the effects it would have, he had second thoughts. What would come out of this, other than relsease? He didn't know, and he wasn't really sure he wanted to find out. But the sparks grew, turned into embers that combusted into a fire, and he was left with no means to put it out.

Their hands entwined. His arms were pulled forward, forcing him down, on top of him. He swallowed. He was warm. Smiling. Gorgeous. He felt himself waver. Was he the one who was going to beg?

"No matter what happens, what we do, I want your hands on me."

Victor responded by crossing his legs over Yuuri's back, making him flex. Pulling him closer. Locking him in place.

"In return," Victor said after a moment of silence, "I want you to look at me. Never look away."

"You need to be quiet."

"And you need to enjoy what's to come."

They weren't sure if they were opponents or allies. But with the rules of the battlefield being laid down, they went to war.

* * *

After a while, they came down. The blissful remnants of their corporeal dance pulsating through them, as they stayed close. In each other's arms.

As every breath got deeper and slower, every heartbeat more controlled, they broke free from the embrace. Watching the other, saying nothing. At least for a while.

"What made you come back?" Victor broke the silence.

"I don't know really. This?"

"Tsk. Really, now? The way you left, I find it hard to believe."

Yuuri sighed. Of course he hadn't returned for sex. Not entirely, anyway. The truth to his return was painful to admit, but he decided that in order to protect himself from the consequences of meeting Victor, he would have to lay all the cards on the table. No matter what hand he'd been dealt.

"I came back because of you, of course. Don't be stupid." _No, for us. But I can't tell you that. Not yet. I need to make sure._

The wheels had started to turn. He felt it again. The need to get away at all costs. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. _This time, I'll stay. I need to stay. I want to stay. I can't keep running away._

Victor's hand on his cheek made him open his eyes. Instinctively, he covered his hand with his own. Met his blue eyes. They looked calm. But they couldn't ground him.

"Can I take a shower?" The simplest way of creating some distance, but not actually running away. He couldn't think of anything else in that moment.

"Sure, go ahead."

Yuuri got out of bed, feeling the pulse in his temples. "Can I use your stuff?"

"Sure, but you already have my smell on you!"

His reply felt like a knife to the heart. _Please, don't be so casual. You're pulling me back in and I don't know if I can handle it!_ He went into the bathroom, making sure that he didn't close the door.

* * *

"Wow." Victor couldn't suppress the word from escaping his mouth. He rolled over to his back. Some things actually became better with age.

He ventured back into the memories that just got etched into his mind, the images of him. How he kept the eye contact with him. How he took control. How he'd acted all... selfish. A whole different Yuuri. A Yuuri he would like to know.

It seemed like that there was a possibility to do so now. Get to know him more. But Victor felt apprehensive. He knew that he couldn't take another rejection, not after what had transpired between them a few moments ago. He still felt raw inside, and their actions had only managed to stop the bleeding. _We're not us from fifteen years ago, but why must it be so difficult?_

He stopped himself from going in to the bathroom, stopped himself from demanding answers. He stood just outside the door, looking in. Watching Yuuri use his shower gel, his shampoo. _I want this. I need this. Everyday, for the rest of my life. I don't want to miss out on this anymore._

"Victor?"

Yuuri's voice startled him.

"Can you bring me a towel?"

"Sure." _That was awkward._ Victor took one of the towels off its hanger and went over to the shower. Seeing Yuuri wet, with his hair pulled back from his face, made him lean in without a second thought. He wanted to taste those lips again. He got stopped with a soft touch on his jaw.

"No. Not right now, okay? I just...can't do this right now."

Although the words hurt him, he smiled. "Sure, I understand". He didn't. "I'll... go and get the food." He didn't want to.

He handed Yuuri the towel. Tried to make out what he was thinking, but his brown eyes were not searching for his at all.

* * *

Yuuri heard Victor's naked feet against the bathroom floor as the walked off. He knew that his words had packed a punch, but he just didn't know how to protect himself in any other way. He wished that he knew.

He patted himself down and wrapped himself in a bathrobe that hung on the door. As he came out, he noticed that Victor was wearing one too.

"Have you gotten more modest with age?" _That was one sloppy ice breaker._

Victor, busy with taking their plates off the service cart, chuckled in response. Yuuri knew what that meant. His words from before had not only affected him. They had really dug in.

"Sit." Victor cocked his head in the direction of the armchairs in front of the window.

Yuuri did what he was told, and accepted the plate he was handed.

They ate in silence. A very awkward silence. Yuuri felt uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry. About before."

"Don't mention it." Victor sounded cheery. Yuuri knew all to well that it was Victor's way of dealing with his feelings, and decided to let it slide. The situation felt too volatile for him to be comfortable asking questions.

"I won't bring it up again," Victor said after a pause, "but I'd like to show you something. Is that okay?"

Yuuri felt his heart react, that feeling of it either skipping beats or doing double takes. He wasn't sure what Victor was going for. Against his better judgement, he said yes.

Victor went over to the pile of clothes on the floor and picked up his jacket. Yuuri tried to see what he was doing, but to no avail.

When he returned, he had his wallet in one hand. He sat down, and paused for a while before he spoke. "So... I just want to show you what you've meant to me. Just to make you understand."

Yuuri instinctively grabbed the armrest. He felt his entire body tense up. He'd lost the ability to breathe.

Victor opened the coin compartment and emptied the contents into the palm of his hand. "It's just that," Victor continued, "that I have..."

"No. No, no, no. Please, Victor, no..."

"...saved something that means a lot to me. Oh, Yuuri, don't cry. Here."

Yuuri heard a soft clink against the glass surface of the coffee table. He couldn't make himself look. He knew what would happen if he did.


	6. Chapter 6

It felt like they were frozen in time. Yuuri, turned away with his face in his hands. Victor, staring intently at him. The atmosphere felt thick. Stifling, even.

Victor sighed. "I'm going to take a shower. When I come back, nothing would make me happier if I saw you still being here. Of course, I can't make you, but... I can always beg. So, please. Stay." He hated that he'd put his heart on the line like this, but there was no other way. No other way for him to convey what he was feeling. Even if it meant that he was going to get hurt in the process.

Victor stood up and walked the few strides over to where Yuuri sat. He bent over and kissed the top of his head, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry if this upsets you. I wish it could have the opposite effect." No reaction whatsoever. His fingers lingered a little at the nape of Yuuri's neck, before he turned and headed for the bathroom.

Victor wasn't sure, but as he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard Yuuri sob. It made him desperate for something to hold on to.

* * *

He'd been trying to stifle the hurricane of emotions that wanted to obliterate him from within, just to spare Victor. When Yuuri heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, he broke down. He hated himself for being so emotional, for being so weak. Why did his feelings escape him, time and time again? Why was he so utterly incapable to stay in control?

_It's because of Victor._

Yuuri hated to admit it, but ever since Victor came into his life, he'd been shedding a lot more tears. He had that effect on him, breaking down his defences with absolutely no effort at all. There was nothing he could do to ward himself. Not now, not fifteen years ago. As hard as it was to accept, he had yearned for it to happen. To be affected by him. Broken down by him. Forced by him to get in touch with everything he wanted gone.

Yuuri felt his heart clench, and realised that his eyes reacted accordingly with an abundance of tears. _Why am I so afraid? It's not like I can lose something I don't have?_

He drew a shivering breath. _No. I'm afraid to remember._ He gathered the courage to glance at the top of the coffee table. Like a small child looking at something indirectly, trying to determine if it's frightening or not. Indeed, there it was. The Spanish good luck charm.

Seeing it, well... It wasn't that harrowing. Yuuri figured that he'd emptied the box where all his fears were stored, at least for today. He knew that tomorrow would be another day, though. The box would again be filled and hard to keep closed. Filled with the memories and feelings related to what never was. What could have been. That's how it usually worked.

Almost as if compelled, he reached out and picked it up. Again, it wasn't as agonising as he'd expected it to be. Holding it like that. The ring caught the light from the sun outside, making a small reflection on the wall opposite him. A circle, it's symbolism obvious. Eternity. Perfection. Something whole and complete. _He kept it. I can't believe it._

He slid it on his right ring finger. It was loose. Victor had bigger hands. He became occupied with spinning it around, slowly, as his mind tried to engage him in thoughts forbidden.

"It... it looks good on you."

* * *

He didn't know what to say. What to do. How to react. But seeing him wear it made something come out anyway. He saw him wince. And then, an ear-deafening silence took over.

Victor walked over to Yuuri, and crouched down on his heels.

"Sorry." He put his hand on his. Gave it a little squeeze. Feeling the cool of the ring against his palm. _It feels so familiar._

"No, I don't mind." Yuuri's response was barely audible when he continued. "It does, though."

Victor sighed. _Why all this heartache, Yuuri? For what?_

"So you've kept it? All this time?"

Victor almost had to lean in to hear what Yuuri was mouthing. "Yes," he answered. A brief flutter of hope touched him, only to disappear as quickly. But it convinced him to continue.

"So... Can we talk? Like, really talk?" He held Yuuri by his wrists. "Your pace. Whatever you're comfortable with." _Please, look at me. Talk to me._

He thought he saw a nod. He held on to him a little tighter.

"Yes?" Victor heard that his voice was full of disbelief. His heart had started to beat a little faster. His mind telling him to be restrictive, his body preparing him to react. The distinct nod that etched itself on his retina, made him weak. He rested his forehead on Yuuri's thigh, feeling slightly faint.

"Thank you," he whispered into the fabric of the bathrobe.

* * *

"I... I don't know... How do we do this?" Yuuri spoke into Victor's hair. The smell of it, still damp to the touch, was soothing. "What are we supposed to say?"

Victor shifted a little underneath him, resting his cheek on his thigh instead. Drawing slow and steady breaths.

"I kept it," Victor started. "I wore it for some time. Afterwards, I mean. On my finger. Then, around my neck. But I figured I had to wean myself off you. But I just couldn't get rid of it. So, it ended up in my wallet."

Yuuri felt a sting inside. He was afraid to speak. To ask. Luckily, Victor resumed.

"That's why I asked you before. What they meant to you, I mean. Because, to me, they were... Or, rather, I wanted them to be everything, you know? Not knowing what you thought of them, that's what hurts the most. I still don't know."

Yuuri felt Victor getting tense. He wasn't sure if he could deal with what he was about to say. He felt a self-consuming guilt expand within, knowing that it would feed off of Victor's words.

A small vibration, nothing more.

"Are you crying?" Yuuri felt stupid asking. He knew very well that he was.

"What am I supposed to do then, huh? I'm letting you inside, even though it hurts so fucking bad. I know I might be rejected, _again._ " His voice wasn't steady. "But I'm okay with taking this chance. I'm inviting you in, Yuuri."

"Why," Yuuri said whilst trying to keep his voice under control, "am I scared to death, Victor? I want to break! Hide! I don't know if I can ever do what you ask of me."

"Don't hide. Now is your chance. Show me the broken parts you don't want me to see. The ones you've kept away from us." Victor's voice was nothing but a whisper. "I'll mend you."

Yuuri leaned over and removed his glasses, leaving them on the coffee table. He returned to Victor and the smell of his hair, letting his tears dampen the strands of silver.


	7. Chapter 7

"Yuuri?" Victor's voice was soft. Encouraging. In that moment, Yuuri believed him. Maybe he could mend him. Make the memories and the pain less damaging. Maybe... make them go away?

Yuuri straightened himself. Victor took this as a cue to remove himself from Yuuri's lap. He pulled the other armchair closer, and placed himself in it. Yuuri was glad that Victor chose to remain close. Holding his hands. Trying to support him.

He had a hard time finding the words. Connecting them to thoughts, old and new. Making some kind of order in the mess he felt on the inside.

"The rings, huh?" He tasted the words carefully. _What were they to me?_

Victor held his hands patiently.

"I... I got insecure, okay?" That churning feeling inside made him lose his focus. His eyes suddenly wanted to see in, rather than out. He closed them. Tried to breathe slowly. Fought for control.

"I wasn't sure. About anything. I... all I knew back then was that I was taking you away. Diminishing your chances of, well, anything if you stayed. I didn't want that."

He met Victor's eyes briefly, but found it too hard to keep the contact. He looked away, feeling disconcerted. Not being able to see his reaction. _He's going to get hurt. I don't want him to._

"I know what I said was... It was hurtful. I know. But I thought it would make it easier for you to go."

He felt Victor loosen his grip of his hands. Not entirely, but just enough to make him notice. It made his insides cramp up.

"Easier?" Victor's voice had a slight sharpness to it.

"Yes. I'm so ashamed to even... I just don't want to do this, Victor."

"Now you have to explain yourself. First, you almost executed me in Barcelona, as far as I remember it. You told me you wanted to end it. Claiming that I had decided that we would split after the GPF. Sure, I figured what you were referring to was the coach-student relationship and that we could continue being together anyway, but then you..." Victor looked away and took a deep breath. "Then... After the GPF, as we were preparing to take the flight back to Japan, you went off and... Shit, I can't even make myself say it!"

Automatically, Yuuri bowed his head. Out of shame. He really wanted to break. Hide. Anything that would give him respite.

"Do you even remember what you said to me? Do you remember what you did?" Just a tiny hint of anger in his voice. But it spoke volumes.

"Yes. Yes I do."

"And?"

"I told you that I had returned the ring you gave me." _I want to disappear._

* * *

The energy between them was almost palpable. Thick and poisonous, almost.

Victor was still holding on to Yuuri's hands. He'd decided before to not let go. Not until he had all the answers. But he wanted to. He wanted to make the feelings he had been fighting off for so long come up to the surface. The hurt, the resentment, the anger, the bitterness. But, strangely enough, he wanted to let the love he still carried with him do... something. But it felt incapacitated.

"Exactly." His response sounded curt, he realised that. But it became harder and harder for him to stay unaffected. "You told me to keep mine. For good luck. What a thing to say." He scoffed. "Can you even begin to understand how it felt to sit next to you on that plane? Not having the right to you anymore? Not being able to touch you like before? I mean, I had to come with you. My dog was with your folks, my stuff was there. You killed me then and there, Yuuri."

Yuuri said nothing, just shook his head. Victor tried hard not to act on the irritation he was feeling.

"And I can't, still to this day, understand. Why? I thought we had something... more. Not something that could be thrown away so easily."

"I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? And all of this was 'easy'? Come on!"

"Victor, I... I decided that I was letting you go way before. After the competition in Russia. But when we met, I... couldn't make myself say it."

A lightning strike. To Victor, everything stopped. How long? Who knows. When he finally managed to say something, his voice was totally deprived of emotion.

"So when you said 'take care of me until I retire', you..."

"Yes. I had decided."

He let him go. He just couldn't hold on to him anymore. It was as if the world was shaking underneath, Yuuri being the epicentre and holding on to him would destroy everything.

"But we ran to each other that time. Basically throwing ourselves at each other. Was that all a lie, too?"

Yuuri's pause made Victor feel sick. _What if it was all a lie?_

"No. It never was."

"I don't understand. I mean... all the things we did together after you returned from Russia... How could you, honestly? Let me touch you? Be with you? And why... why did you pretend that nothing had changed? Especially when you knew where it was all going?"

"It's not... it's not like that."

"Then tell me!" _I seriously can't believe it. What the hell is this?!_

Victor's outburst got him exactly what he wanted. A brief eye contact that was full of regret.

* * *

Yuuri swallowed. Having Victor's eyes attached to his made him feel uneasy. He felt scrutinised. Judged. He felt naked and alone, suddenly. Yearning for Victor to hold on to him again. But he respected his decision to let go, he owed it to him.

"This is going to be hard to explain," he said quietly. "And I... really don't want to because..." He sighed. Knowing very well that it had come to this. He tried to start, tried to explore where his thoughts and words would take them.

"I... um... It's like this. I was insecure, okay? About a lot of things. About how I claimed you. Took you away from what you were doing with your life and your career. I found it really strange that you showed up in Hasetsu, you know? At first, I couldn't shake that feeling. Then it... became difficult, sort of. You were aggressive and flirty and I... well, you were my first in so many ways."

Yuuri paused. He wasn't sure that he was explaining himself well. These thoughts he tried to dress into words had never been spoken before. Not out loud.

"At first I, and please don't hate me for saying this, went with the flow. Kind of. I wasn't sure about anything. But everything about you made me feel good, so I guessed it was okay. Being with you, being taught by you both on and off the ice... It was great. I liked being touched by you. Then, I loved it. Then I... wanted it."

He glanced at Victor. He was impossible to read.

"So, I... When it became more serious, I never had second thoughts. But I guess that, in my mind, I couldn't find a valid reason for you to have me, be with me. Or vice versa. Not in that way, you know. So I started to listen. People obviously found it strange that you gave up your career to teach me. Back then on the Internet, people said you were making me into a cheap carbon copy of you. That I had some kind of catch on you because it was so strange for you to take a break and end up coaching me of all people."

Yuuri paused. He decided to remove the ring and place in on the coffe table. "They... they said you were grooming me and... other lewd things as well. Just because you left your career. Not giving the fans what they wanted. I never wanted you to end up with the consequences of being with me. It felt as if I was killing you. You and your career. And I couldn't stand that, knowing that you had so much more to give." _He's so beautiful. Oh, how it hurts. I'm sorry, Victor. I'm sorry for what's to come._

"Wait, what?" Victor eyes narrowed.

Yuuri smiled. He realised that he had been rambling. He felt as if he was slowly getting to the punchline, even though the journey had seemed neverending.

"So, Victor," Yuuri said as he put his hand to Victor's face, "that's when I decided to save you. By letting you go. By making myself fall out of love with you."


	8. Chapter 8

He could feel the change in himself. Gradually taking over, becoming something he didn't recognise. A stern look with narrowed eyes became smoothed out, and turned into a look of disbelief. And then, a... laugh? It erupted, not having any connection with what he was actually feeling inside. It made him feel detatched.

It was as if he was walking on a fine line, a line drawn between the worlds of laughter and tears. As if it would be easy to tip over to either side. But he never wobbled. Although, he wished for it to happen.

"Victor?" He didn't hear him. He couldn't feel the touch of his hand against his cheek.

He stood up and walked to the window, rested his eyes on Tokyo's skyline. Although not seeing it. Still under the influence of the strange convulsions and the sound they made him do. As they ebbed away, a tidal wave crashed over him. This time it was anger. Intense anger. Not giving him the possibility to prepare. But it was a more pleasant feeling, it felt more motivated. More familiar. More in-tune to what was playing out within him.

"Fifteen years," he started. "Are you telling me that I've been suffering, pining, for fifteen years? Just because you made a decision for _me_? Without even letting me know?" He didn't expect Yuuri to answer, and wasn't surprised that he remained silent. "Hah... you told me that you were angry with me but that doesn't even come close describing the thoughts and feelings I have for you right now."

"I'm sorry."

Victor turned around, feeling more and more worked up. Seeing Yuuri make himself as small as he possibly could in that armchair, tipped him over. He didn't have the right to feel sorry. Not after that reveal. And he was intent on letting him know.

"Fifteen years, Yuuri! And you're the one who's sorry?!" The sound of his voice took over the room. Made the window to the outside vibrate for a second. "I can't believe you. I can't belive you've put me through all this for so long! You could've said something! Talked to me!"

He crossed his arms, a small gesture to keep himself regulated. It did nothing for his tone of voice, though.

"If you only had talked to me, you would have known that I was happy with my life! With you! For the first goddamn time in so many years, I saw that there was something else out there for me. A chance at Life and Love, something I had forsaken for so long. You brought it with you. You gave it to me. And how ironic is it that you were the one to rip it all away? Killing me, over and over."

_He's crying? No! No, wait. That's... Good._

"I was perfectly fine with my decision to coach you. I would have been by your side, perfectly happy off the ice. I would have thrown my career away, without hesitation, if I knew that you would be there, next to me in the morning. Even after retiring, I would have wanted you to stay with me but you just assumed that it would be over as soon as you got out? What's wrong with you?! Skating brought us together, true, but we had something more! Something that would carry on afterwards and beyond. And I hate that you never saw this."

Victor scoffed. "I wanted to grow old with you. I wanted to marry you. If you'd only talked to me, you would have known this. I don't know if you've noticed, and what you've told me just now shows me that you probably haven't, but I've always walked my own way. Why the hell would I ever give a damn if someone ever thought something unduly about us? It wouldn't have mattered. Ever."

He caught his breath. Realising that he'd never been this angry, this upset. "Are you telling me that I'm the one to blame? Was I vague? No, that's impossible. No, I won't carry that weight. I couldn't keep my hands off you, back then! I was sure you felt the same way about me. I loved, no, I love you. I honestly still do. But after this, I... I seriously don't know what I think of you."

He grew silent. Tried to rally his thoughts. That black, thick flock of birds. One thought remained still though, in that flapping chaos. Easy enough to catch.

"So, did you? Did you stop loving me?!"

* * *

_"If you'd only talked to me, you would have known this." "Did you stop loving me?"_

Victor's words rooted themselves in his mind. Echoing, buzzing, vibrating. _If I only had talked to him...? But I was so sure. And did I stop loving him?_

He wanted to disappear. He wanted it all undone, but at the same time, everything had to be said. For anything to continue, it just had to, although it made him suffocate. He couldn't make himself look at him. He couldn't bear seeing him, not now. Not after this one-sided exchange.

Slowly, the realisation of what he'd heard hit him. He had messed up. He had allowed his own insecurities to create a reality that he'd been devoured by, something he figured was entirely true.

_Victor never wanted this? Victor wanted... me? Regardless of anything, everything? And now..._

Those annoying tears, again. And that sound, that silly whimper. He felt pathetic. Instinctively, his legs got pulled up to his chest, acting as a feeble wall to keep the outside world from making itself known to his inside. He got swallowed by the deep, the abyss he was all too familiar with. This time, it wasn't scary. This time, it was comfortable. The clawing desperation soothed him. The lightheadedness felt like a substitute for a sexual climax.

But as always, everything tend to pass. This did too, leaving him exposed to him.

"Is it strange that I want to comfort you?" Victor's voice was emotional. Shivering and vibrating, somewhere in that outside world he tried to keep away. He suddenly sounded closer. "I couldn't make you confident enough. I failed, and this is my punishment."

_No, no more. No more of this game going back and forth without a final score._

"Please, don't." Yuuri spoke into his thighs. Into his wall, hoping that it would stand the test. "I'm responsible for this, don't you take that from me."

He slowly unfurled. Making his eyes meet with his cerulean blue. Not saying anything, just seeing each other in that particular moment. And oddly enough, it didn't feel strange. It felt like coming home. Coming up for air.

"Are you okay?" Yuuri's voice was barely audible.

"Are you?" He sounded steady now. Grounded in his new reality he'd been forced into. It made all the difference.

"I... think so. Victor, I... I should probably go."

The blue eyes narrowed. A barely visible response. _He's still holding on._

"Can't you stay, Yuuri? Until tomorrow morning. We don't have to do anything else than just... breathe."

He hated himself for swaying, hated himself for what he said without giving it a second thought. "Will you be okay if I do?"

"Yes."

* * *

"It's a single room so... will it be awkward, you think?"

"No. No, I don't think so." _What an incredibly stupid answer to an equally stupid question._ He felt his breath caress the nape of his neck.

"Is it okay if I..." His arms slipped underneath his, carefully and tentative like a young boy's first shivering attempts at love. The warmth of his chest radiated against his back. His hands rested on him, one on his chest and one on his stomach, pushing him back. Pushing him closer. It made his heart clench. It was bittersweet.

"Yeah, it's okay." It wasn't, not really. An impulse made him think that he wanted to hold on to him, push himself closer by his own accord but... he had decided.

Tonight, all they were going to do was to breathe.


	9. Chapter 9

"Are you awake?" His voice came from nowhere, breaking through the silence that seemingly had been going on forever. The sudden sound was startling.

"Mhm. I can't sleep."

"Come here. Turn around." A soft touch on the shoulder, made by one finger or possibly two.

He did what he was told and rolled over to his side. He was instantly met by careful fingers, brushing dark strands of hair out of his eyes.

"I always did, you know. I never stopped." He just blurted it out. The touch was feathery soft against his forehead, the motion being repeated again and again without any hesitation. Even after his reveal.

"I know." The blue eyes looked away for a second. "I know that now."

"You had doubts?"

"Hmm... Kind of. Or... no, not really. Okay, maybe a little. As always with you, there's always an explanation as to why you do the most irrational things."

"I guess that's true. That goes for you too."

"Hah... Maybe it does. I do it for the thrill. You do it because you can't stand being in your own skin."

"Good observation." He dared to touch his hand, it was still busy with his hair.

"Tell me, Yuuri. How has life been for you? What have you've been up to?"

He laughed out of surprise. "Are we making small talk now? Okay, so... Where to start?"

"What do you do?"

"I'm an accountant. Dull, huh?"

"Figures, with that degree of yours. You enjoy it?"

"It's okay. My company works for the JSF, but I keep away from the skating as much as I can. And you're coaching."

"Yes. I live in France right now. Marseille."

"I see."

Yuuri had doubts. What good would it do to reacquaint like that? He wasn't sure he wanted to know where life had taken Victor during the years that passed. It felt like any information, no matter what kind, would add to the miserable feeling he kept inside. However, he decided to ask the question before Victor got around to it. It felt better hearing himself say it.

"So... you've had someone else of course?"

A small smile teased the corners of Victor's mouth. "Not long term, no. Shorter acquaintances, quite a few. What, you thought that I would save myself for you?"

"Don't be stupid."

"And you? Bet you didn't save yourself for me, either?"

"No. Again, don't be stupid."

"Men, or...?"

"Yes. Just men."

"Oh? Well, why not stick to the beaten path."

* * *

A silence came over them. They revelled in the delight of looking at each other. Making sure that every single detail got etched in, somehow. Every line, every curve, every wonderful imperfection. Everything that made them real and not something idolized.

And then, a kiss. A short, warm meeting. It was hard to tell who took the initiative, since they both knew what the coming day would mean for them. Both dreading it, without even realising it.

"Is this breathing?" Yuuri whispered his words as the soft sensation of Victor's lips left his.

"I think so. Although, we shouldn't make it harder than what it already is." Victor paused, trailed his thumb over Yuuri's lower lip. "But... I want more."

A soft moan rolled off Yuuri's lips. He didn't want to combust. He wanted to give himself a chance to leave unscathed. No. He wanted to explode.

"I don't think we should," he responded. "I'm not sure I can deal with it."

Victor sighed, his exhale felt warm. "I hear you." He shifted, and sat up with his back against the headboard. "What happens tomorrow?" _Please, ask me to stay. That's all I ask of you._

"I... guess I'll go home and you'll get on your flight back to France." _Please, don't make this difficult. That's all I ask of you._

"Yeah. I guess that's what'll happen." Victor looked down at him. "Does it have to be like that, though?"

"Victor..." Yuuri couldn't make himself finish the sentence.

"I know. I know, I'll stop." He reached out and found Yuuri's hand, locking fingers with him. "Will we keep contact, you think?"

"I'm not sure... would you like to?" Victor's kiss on the back of his hand felt cool. Sad, somehow. His chest, however, felt warm as his hand got placed above his heart.

"I used to love this, feeling your heart beat," Yuuri said silently. "That rythm, it could fix anything. Now, it just feels excruciating."

Victor responded with a sigh, knowing very well that he felt the same. He gave Yuuri's arm a little tug. Yuuri gave in.

* * *

Feeling his body against his own, the sensation of him on his lap... it took away everything. Every doubtful thought, every feeling of unrest just melted away. It was just them now, and nothing else could possibly encroach on their moment.

The feeling of his skin as he trailed his fingers along his back, every vertebra, every rib, the curve at the small of his back... So familiar. With every kiss along his neck and shoulders, his need for him grew. Making it impossible to contain it within himself. Feeling his breathing pick up, his chest expanding against his and intruding on him, made him quicken.

He had to press him close. One hand on his back, the other one digging into his hair. Making sure that he wasn't going anywhere. Forcing him to meet his mouth. The feeling of him clambering, holding on to him, seeking him in return... it all acted like fuel on a flame. He wanted him like he never had wanted anything else.

"Yuuri..." He could barely speak. He just wanted to tear into him and not let go. "I want it rough," he panted. He knew that he wanted it too, everything about him told him this, but he needed to hear it. Needed to hear it from him.

"Do it." His response was muffled against his shoulder.

"Do I need to get..." He was silenced by his tongue and his lips, swollen from countless of oral audiences.

"No. Do it. We'll use spit, yours or mine don't matter," he whispered into his mouth.

_Oh, Yuuri. How I would like to get to know you._

As Yuuri found his way back onto his lap and dug his fingers into his back, he knew that he was ready. And hence, they merged together with everything they had. Becoming one with each other in a flurry of cries, hands, mouths and delicious momentum.

* * *

The lovers' high waned, eventually. Leaving two entwined bodies behind, trembling and at peace. The minds, however, were somewhere else. Counting down to the inevitable. Waiting for the sun to set things in motion.

"What time is it?" Yuuri whispered his question into Victor's ear, as he was perfectly still on top of him.

Victor shifted slightly to get a look at the red glare of the alarm clock. "05:34. Not much sleep for us tonight." Victor propped himself up on his elbows, and looked down on him. "You're beautiful. You know that, right?"

"Stop," Yuuri replied with a slight hint of mirth in his voice.

"But you are." Victor changed topic. "Breakfast is at seven. Will you join me?"

"Sure," he replied after a moment of contemplation.

"Thank you. I won't keep you, not for long anyway."

Victor's retort created a small vibration inside that left a sensation of pain behind. _This is it, huh?_

"Want to take a shower with me?" Yuuri tried to untangle himself from underneath, hoping that Victor would get the hint and get off him.

"Sure. I'd love to. After you." Victor smiled, a bittersweet kind of smile.

Yuuri had to look away immediately, because of the smile and also because of him being pinned underneath Victor. "You... have to get off me in that case," he finally said. Knowing very well what it would entail.

"I will." Victor leaned in and gave him a kiss. A chaste one. He made himself free from Yuuri eventually, and sat up next to him. "After you."

* * *

It was the longest shower he could remember. A shower taken in complete silence, but not without warmth and tenderness.

Yuuri found Victor to be extremely touchy-feely. Touching him, rubbing up against him, even letting a stray kiss end up on his shoulder. But he never spoke. _Of course, it's hard for him too._

Letting Victor wash his hair brought back memories from long ago. It almost made him weep, thinking about their pre-competition routine. How they used to shower, wash each other's hair. Culminating in Victor applying his disgustingly expensive, sweetly scented hair gel in his hair from behind with warm and steady hands, before combing it through. _No, now's not the time._

Yuuri returned the favor, and lathered Victor's hair thoroughly. He felt self-conscious having him look at him like that. It was apparent that he was thinking of bygone times, too. As Victor rinsed out his shampoo, Yuuri stepped out of the shower and dried himself.

"You did a good job, it stings." Seeing the red marks on Victor's back as he rinsed out the shampoo made Yuuri feel slightly embarrassed. It seemed so adolescent. "Pass me my towel, Yuuri."

Yuuri reached for Victor's towel and was rewarded by a kiss when he brought it over. He didn't stop him this time, he met him with the same low-key energy. "You wear your battle scars well," he said softly. "They suit you."

"You've left your mark, it seems. Lucky me that I don't have to explain myself to anyone."

* * *

They stood together, waiting for the lift. It was really hard coming up with things to say. Yuuri drifted off in his mind, relishing the final touches they shared before exiting the room. Buttoning each other's shirts. So appropriate it felt in retrospect.

Victor checked his phone. "My student's coming down for breakfast too, it seems. Ugh. Is that okay with you? I have no problems whatsoever telling him off."

"It's fine."

"You know," Victor continued, "he chose to skate my old free skate for that gala yesterday. The one you went viral with, way back when. Can you imagine?"

Yuuri felt a small cramp in his stomach. _So that was him?_ "Yeah, I saw him. Briefly."

The lift dinged. As the doors opened, they both glanced at each other. Acknowledging each other, one last time alone.

"Shall we," Victor asked.

"Let's."

* * *

Victor's student, Julien, was a very loud young man. Highly opinionated. He was nine when he saw Victor's performance and had decided then and there to start skating.

_Victor has that effect on people. Still to this day. It's amazing._

With financially independent parents, it had been easy for him to get big names as coaches. Victor had apparently given in after three years of nagging. It was obvious to Yuuri that he found his student unmotivating, as he seemed to rely more on his coaches former glory than his actual time spent in the rink. As Victor has described him the day before, he was lazy. Talented, but lazy.

"So, I didn't hear from you all evening, Victor! What did you do?"

"I met up with Yuuri here. We're old... friends."

"Aha, I see. I went to the afterparty, it was crazy. There were loads of cute skaters there, the Japanese girls are magnifique!"

Yuuri zoned out as Julien carried on about his female encounters and how he would love to get some alone time with almost all of them. To him, life was like a big playground. A life that differed so much from his own. Yuuri secretly wished that he had told Victor to uninvite him earlier.

His plate was empty. The tea had gotten cold. He knew that it was time.

"So, uh..."

Victor got to his feet in a fraction of a second. "Are you going now, Yuuri?"

"Yes. I guess I am. Nice meeting you, Julien. Victor... Will you walk with me?"

They accompanied each other from the hotel restaurant out to the lobby. A walk much too short.

"So..." Yuuri commenced.

"This is... it?"

"I... I guess it is. It was nice seeing you again, Victor."

"Oh, Yuuri..." Victor's voice was thick with emotion.

"Please, Victor. You're going to make me cry!" As soon as he felt Victor cup his hands around his face and put his forehead against his, he closed his eyes. Tried to press down everything that had started to simmer.

"Open them, Yuuri. Please."

He did what he was told after some hesitation, and saw exactly what he'd hoped not to. Eyes wet with unshed tears. He whimpered. Hid his face against Victor's shoulder.

"Will you be okay?" His voice was so low that he never expected him to hear what he'd just said.

"Yes. Yes, I will." Victor paused. "I'm going to kiss you, then I want you to leave. Okay, Yuuri?" His words were soft, spoken into his hair. Only for him to hear.

He nodded. They united. A soft, trembling touch before breaking away.

"Good bye, Victor."

"See you, Yuuri."

Yuuri was quick to turn on his heels and head for the exit. Making sure not to look back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last one, you guys! Thank you so much for reading, commenting, favoriting and everything else. It really makes all the difference! I love having you with me on my journeys :)

Victor wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there in the lobby, but one thing he knew for certain was that seeing Yuuri leave was a torment. He wanted to catch up to him, grab him. Make him stay. It took all the self control he could muster to remain where he was. And fight the feeling of rejection that clawed at him from the inside.

"Poutain, qu'est-ce qui s'est passé?!" Julien's voice.

_That son of a bitch. Don't be so goddamn vulgar._

"What do you mean 'what happened'?" Victor turned around with his mask on. That disarming, carefree face. _I'll shut you up._

"Did I see you kiss that guy?"

"What if I did?" It was tough fishing out that cheery voice he usually used in situations like this, but he pulled through. Making sure that his eyes did all the necessary talking.

It worked wonders.

"Checkout's at one," he said as he passed him. "Don't be late."

He picked up his phone as he walked to the reception. Went through the messages he apparently got the day before. Nothing interesting at all.

"Hi," he greeted the young woman behind the desk. "I'd like to get some help with arranging a taxi to Narita Airport."

"Certainly. At what time will you be leaving?"

"A quarter past one."

"Yes, certainly. In what name, Sir?"

"Beaumont. Also, I was wondering if you could help me with one more thing? You see, I have a problem. Can I possibly find out where this is, exactly?"

* * *

Yuuri's mind was completely blank as he entered the convenience store. It felt like he was on some kind of autopilot. Everything happened on its own accord, without him being aware of anything at all.

_He said he would be okay. That's all I need to know. Now, I can go on. Just like before._

The thoughts echoed in his mind, as if on repeat.

He had no memory of what he'd bought, but he exited with a plastic bag in his hand. Walking home, like a stumbling ghost. He looked at his watch, suddenly realising that he couldn't tell the time. _Just like before._

He somehow got home. Found his way through the crowded morning streets. Walked up the stairs to his apartment on the fourth floor. His front door seemed like an impermeable fortress before he understood that he had to bring out his keys.

_He's going to be okay._

He unlocked the door and walked inside, being too occupied with his own inner chaos to notice anything. Like a pair of shoes that wasn't his.

"Yuuri! I intercepted you!" A warm embrace. A familiar one. It made him snap out of his nightmarish state of mind.

"You... you're here? How...?" _Do I feel happy? Yes, I think so. No, I don't know!_

"I honestly just got in, must have been five minutes ago. The landlady was really helpful. So... surprise!"

Yuuri stood totally dumbfounded. If his mind had been racing before, it was completely shut down now.

"I... I thought you were going to...?"

"I changed my mind, I wanted to see you."

"That's... that's a surprise. Really."

"You've been shopping?"

"I think so." He smiled. "Can't remember doing it, though."

"Is it brunch?"

"It might be."

"Let's take a look! Do you need help with the cooking?"

"Uh... sure."

* * *

They stood together in silence, preparing the groceries. This was indeed a surprise. Not at all what he had expected.

"Are you hungry, or super hungry?"

"Just hungry. Wow, that's too much ramen, Yuuri. Half that will be enough."

"Sorry. I'm kind of out of my head today."

"I can tell. Are you okay?"

"Yes. Yes, I think so." A reassuring hand on his shoulder. It felt strange after everything that had happened.

He dropped the ramen into the boiling water, and suddenly felt a hand on his cheek. A hand that wanted him to turn his head.

"What is this, no kiss to greet me?"

As they got closer the doorbell rang. Making them focus their attention elsewhere.

"Um..." Yuuri said. "Get that for me, will you? I'll take care of the food."

* * *

Victor felt butterflies in his stomach. Other people would have told him that he was indeed stupid, but he couldn't think of anything else to do. It seemed like the most reasonable move to make. _Always do the opposite of what people expect you to do._

As the door opened, he reacted with surprise. Looking at his small note and then, at the apartment number. And back again. _4_ _003? This **is** 4003\. But... that's not Yuuri._

"Oh..." _Must be the wrong apartment._ "Katsuki Yuuri?"

"Ah, Yuuri wo sagashiteiru desu ka?"

Victor nodded when he heard Yuuri's name being spoken, suddenly feeling something that could only be described as an immense panic. _What the hell is this?_

The Japanse man at the door looked gorgeous with his tall and slender build and his light brown hair. Casually dressed but it was made with a lot of effort. Victor felt annoyed by this, and grew angry with having to put up with his scrutinising stare. He was indeed sizing him up, leaning against the doorpost like that. He met his eyes with every bit of confidence and cool as he possibly could muster. Smiled, as if his life depended on it.

"Takeru? Donata desu ka?" Yuuri's voice sounded faint from inside the apartment. Victor stopped breathing. He finally understood.

Seeing Yuuri there in the hallway, wiping his hands with a towel, made him turn around. He needed to walk away. _I was wrong. I can't believe this!_

* * *

"Takeru? Who is it?" He walked out in the hallway, busy wiping his hands.

"I don't know. Some guy, a foreigner. He's looking for you, I think."

"A fore... Wh... what?!"

"Go see for yourself, I don't know. I'll look after the food, you go."

As soon as Yuuri got closer, his world came to a standstill. He instantly knew at that particular moment, that his life was changed forever more. With no chances of it ever being the same.

* * *

Victor heard the door close, but he couldn't see anything. He was down, sitting on his heels, desperately trying to breathe. Trying to get his lungs to expand with everything he had, but to no avail. Like he had hands wrapped around his neck, but without the love. Instead, with the intent of making him expire.

He couldn't see him, but he could feel him. Feel the presence of him. A hand convulsively holding on to the back of his jacket. Of course it was his.

"Don't..." He tried to speak, but the lack of air made him dizzy. With a great effort, he managed to produce something that became a cry. A cry of intense hopelessness. "Don't you dare fucking touch me!"

The hand defiantly remained on the back of his jacket. Suddenly, his back became weighed down. Arms enclosed him from behind.

"I told you not to touch me." A barely audible whisper. That was the only sound he could produce. But he wouldn't go away. He tried to shrug him off, albeit half-heartedly, but he remained. Shaking against him. _Of course, he's the one who's crying._

Victor wanted to get away from him, but he felt too weak. Incapacitated by his betrayal, his merciless reveal. So he endured. Endured having him, shivering and sobbing, against his back.

He sat down as he felt his legs going numb. And suddenly, he had forced his way against his chest. Burying his face and fingers against his shirt and jacket. Victor wanted to push him away. He tried to grab him by his shoulders, but he shook him off and latched on to him. And suddenly, the arms and hands that wanted him gone seconds before pressed him close. Pulled him in.

"How could you?! What's wrong with you, Yuuri?!"

He never got an answer. Yuuri's quivering exhales felt warm against his neck.

* * *

They calmed down, eventually. Holding on to each other like before. The emotions were still there, though. Somewhat contained.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Victor, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Yuuri spoke into Victor's chest, secretly wishing that his apologies would be enough to appease him.

"You just can't get enough, can you?" Victor's voice sounded calm. "You just love to hit where it hurts. Enough with the pleading." His arms tightened around him, a strange contrast to the words that lingered.

Yuuri sniffed quietly. "I didn't know he was going to be there."

"I don't care. It doesn't matter anymore." _Now I know. Now I know why he wouldn't commit. Couldn't commit._

Yuuri felt his tears being soaked up by Victor's clothes. They just wouldn't stop forcing their way down his face. Curiously enough, he stayed calm on the inside.

"How did you know where to go?"

"Reverse search. I sent myself a text from your phone yesterday."

"Oh." He knew that he should have said something about Victor invading his privacy like that, but... it didn't matter. Not anymore.

"Honestly, Yuuri... I can't believe you. You know that you're making yourself seem very untrustworthy, right?"

"It's not like that." _Please, don't say that!_

"Quite the contrary. You could have said something about a lot of things. Like... you could have said something about us. Him. At least before we... you know. It doesn't feel right." Victor sighed. One of his hands found its way into Yuuri's hair. "You know where this leaves us, right?" His voice was a whisper now.

Yuuri nodded. _He's not going to be okay. And I'm to blame._

"Good. I just want you to know that everything I've said, everything I've done, both today and yesterday, I... I meant all of it."

Yuuri broke free from the embrace and clasped his hands behind Victor's neck. Tried to see what was going on behind those blue eyes.

"Victor? I know I said it this morning but maybe not in the way I actually wanted. I've never really been able to, but I... Well, I want you to know that I never fell out of love with you. I've always loved you. And I think I'll continue to love you, even after today. And I'm sorry. For everything. I... I messed up."

Victor lifted Yuuri's hands up and over his head and kissed his entwined fingers.

"It's really good bye this time."

"Will you be okay?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop it." Victor stood up and brushed off his clothes. As their eyes met, he fired off a captivating smile. "Well... Dasvidanya, Katsudon."

Seeing him walk away tore Yuuri to pieces. But he said nothing. Did nothing. Except watching him cross the small parking lot as he headed for the street, way down below.

"Vitya!" He just had to. Just this once.

It made him stop, look up at him.

Victor responded with a little wave and then, he disappeared out of sight.

* * *

Yuuri stumbled into the hallway. Feeling dazed.

"Yuuri? You were out there forever!"

He could hear Takeru coming closer, but he stopped. Some paces before him.

"What happened? Hey..."

Yuuri felt like an impostor. Like a master con-artist. Even more so when he actively seeked comfort. He wanted to be engulfed by something calming, something that felt steady. This was his only available option. He felt arms enclose him, hating himself as they did.

"Who was that? Someone from work?"

Yuuri despised himself for nodding. Although, he figured, it was kind of true. Or it had been, at least once before.

* * *

It was quiet and still. There, in the dim light of the cabin, a lonesome mobile phone spread a small halo of light. Illuminating a pair of blue eyes and loose strands of silver coloured hair.

_Do you want to delete the message?_

_Yes l No_

He made his choice and put the phone back into his pocket. Silently pinching the bridge of his nose in a pathetic attempt to stop the tears.

Meanwhile, across the world, someone else was reading a message in his phone's outbox. Letting a wail escape through his clenched teeth as he did.

_To: +33 66 xxx xx xx_

_My once in a lifetime._

**_~the end~_ **


	11. Chapter 10: Alternative ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, I really hope that you never thought that I would slay you and just leave you hanging? Here's an alternative ending for you lovebirds. Although it's #notmyending, the sappy side of us must feed sometimes too, right?
> 
> Bless you for all the comments, hits, reviews and reactions. Thank you :)

 

Every step he made closer to the exit made his heart ache. _Just go. Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't look back._ But oh, how he wanted to. It was like he was gravitating towards him, even though he was moving away.

He got to the outside and turned left. And he failed. He accidentally looked over his shoulder, through the windows. Even though people were standing in the way, the blue eyes that were watching him from afar made him stop dead in his tracks. Just for a second. But it was enough. It created a feeling of longing within him. A feeling of belonging.

It looked like he was going to come to him, like he prepared himself to run. He averted his eyes immediately, knowing that he needed to do whatever he could before they wandered back. Back to his. So, he walked on.

* * *

Seeing Yuuri leave was a torment. As they caught each other's eyes, divided by nothing but glass, Victor wanted to catch up to him. Grab him. Make him stay. It took all the self control he could muster to remain where he was.

At the same time, he felt confused. _He stopped. I saw it. But he still left. Why, Yuuri?_

Victor walked back to the table where Julien still remained, slowly sipping coffee.

"Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé, maintenant?"

Victor didn't like his tone. It sounded condecending. "It has nothing to do with you." He tried to sound as flippant as he possibly could. Not giving him any satisfaction of revealing what he felt on the inside.

Julien scoffed. "Did I see you kiss that guy?"

_You son of a bitch._ "What if I did?" Victor smiled. Stared at him. Stared him down. It was with great triumph he saw him look the other way. "Checkout's at one," he continued. "Don't be late."

He picked up his phone as he walked to the reception. Went through the messages he apparently got the day before. Nothing interesting at all.

"Hi," he greeted the young woman behind the desk. "I'd like to get some help with arranging a taxi to Narita Airport."

"Certainly. At what time will you be leaving?"

"A quarter past one."

"Yes, certainly. In what name, Sir?"

"Beaumont. Also, I was wondering if you could help me with one more thing? You see, I have a problem. Can I possibly find out where this is, exactly?

* * *

Yuuri's mind was completely blank. It was like his feet decided where he should end up, moving by themselves through the crowded morning streets. It felt like he was on some kind of autopilot. Everything happened on its own accord, without him being aware of anything at all. When they finally stopped, he found himself outside of his office building.

Work usually made him disconnect with the world around him. He figured that he must have subconsciously made the decision to walk to work, in order to get peace of mind. Find solace in the monotony of numbers.

He put his hand in his pockets, searching for his key card. When he found it, he just stood there. Strangely enough, it was as if his pin-number was obliterated from his memory. Somebody must have seen him standing there, with his card in hand but not doing anything else, since the door opened from within.

"Hey, Katsuki! You're coming in to work too, huh?" A voice sounded from within as the door flung open. Yuuri lifted his head and saw a fellow colleague. Sakaguchi from HR.

"I guess..." He had a hard time focusing. His mind replayed the morning's events. Down to every last detail. Every sensation, every smell, every breath...

"I had to come in too," she said with an annoyed tone in her voice. "I hate working on holidays, but it can't be helped. Oh, is something wrong with your card?"

_Lie. It's simpler._ "Yes, I think so. I'll fix it on Monday."

Yuuri watched Sakaguchi as she offered him a smile and a small bow before she took the stairs up to her floor. He went straight to his desk, and was somewhat suprised that his computer still was on. _Oh, that's right. I planned to get back here yesterday but I... got distracted._

His mind started to wander again. _He said he would be okay. That's all I need to know. Now, I can go on. Just like before._ The thoughts echoed in his mind, as if on repeat.

* * *

He tried to get something done, he really did. But the numbers made no sense. Not offering any consolement at all. After trying repeatedly to focus and finish his work, he had to accept the fact that his mind had defeated him. He looked at his computer. Four hours had apprently passed and he had no recollection of what he'd been doing. Looking at the screen, it seemed like he'd been doing absolutely nothing at all.

He sighed. He decided to upload his work to the cloud and picked out some binders from the ever-growing pile on his desk. Maybe he could get something done over the weekend? Hopefully, it would act as a distraction at some point. He absentmindedly put them in his bag that had spent its night at the office.

_I wonder what he's doing now._ He flinched. _No. We said good bye. It's final. It is over. And he'll be okay._

He was surprised to feel that burn behind his eyelids. That vibrating feeling somewhere deep within him. That's when Yuuri suddenly was hit by a revelation. He knew what he had to do. And why.

* * *

He felt stupid as he stood there, outside the hotel. Where their eyes has met one last time. _What if he's not there? No, that's not as big an issue... What if he's there? What'll I do? What can I say? Will he push me away?_ He suddenly felt cold. _What if he pushes me away?_ He decided to find out.

Funny, how the exact same route could made him feel something entirely different. Earlier that morning, the walk from the lobby to the exit had made him empty. And now, as be did it in reverse, he felt excited. Nervous. And... hopeful?

_When you're near, I keep coming back to you. I can't keep away._

He approached the front desk and was met with a courteous smile.

"Hi, is... um, is the guest in room 1172 still checked in?"

So much was riding on this. On the upcoming answer. His heart was beating fast, making him feel lightheaded.

"No, I'm sorry. The guest has already checked out."

_I'm too late. I'm not okay. I'm not okay with him leaving!_

* * *

Victor only observed. At first, he thought that he was totally mistaken. But it was Yuuri. Yuuri was standing there in the lobby, taking to the woman behind the desk.

It was like every possible thought took flight. Again, acting like a flock of birds. But now, instead of feeling overwhelmed by this, he felt jubilant. But... there was a slight uncertainty to him. Something that made him stay where he was. Something that told him not to pursue or approach him.

_I'm afraid._

Victor saw Yuuri's demeanor shift from where he stood. His body posture changed. He started to look at the floor. Avoiding people's eyes. Covering his own. _Hm?_ And then, he headed for the exit.

It was like flipping a switch. Victor reacted instantly.

"Julien, the taxi'll be here any minute. I have something I got to do, it can't wait."

"Huh? What? Now?"

"Be a big boy and see yourself home, okay?" He grabbed his coat and put it on as he hurriedly headed for the street. After him. He heard his student yell something after him, but he wasn't paying attention. Or rather, he didn't care. Not in the slightest.

"This time, you won't be getting away."

* * *

This was totally unexpected. His mind was racing. _How do I do this? No. I'll follow him. For now._

He kept his distance. Followed him, his eyes fixed on his back from afar. He couldn't help but smile. He knew what he'd seen. There was no doubt. He'd come back, only to be heartbroken. It was obvious. Suddenly, Victor realised that he wasn't afraid anymore. He knew how this would play out, if he only had some self restraint.

He followed Yuuri for a good fifteen minutes before he thought he'd lost him. The streets were crowded, it was hard to get around. Suddenly, he realised that the familiar view was gone. He kept walking, decided if he should cross a street or not, when he saw that he'd entered a small convenience store. He relaxed. _That was close._

After a while, and it had seemed like an eternity to Victor, Yuuri emerged with a plastic bag in his hand. He managed to get a quick look of his face. _Oh..._ Victor's heart started beating a little bit faster. He was absolutely sure. This would go well.

* * *

As he exited the store, he realised that he didn't remember entering it. He figured that he'd actually bought something since he was carrying a plastic bag, but he had no idea what it was. _Keep it together. You're almost home._

He somehow got home, being lost in thoughts again. As he stood in his hallway, not being able to move, he broke down. Dropped his bag on the floor. Emotions were catching up, making him shatter.

"I... really wished to see you," he whimpered as he sat down with his back against the wall. "I've been such a fool." _At least I know that you're going to be okay._

He curled up as much as he possbily could. He removed his glasses and rested his forehead on his arms that were shakingly pulling his legs up to his chest. Then, the oh-so-familiar vibration started within. As on cue, he felt tears escaping from his eyes, falling heavy like raindrops. _This is how he must have felt. I'm so sorry, Victor._

Yuuri cried himself dry, sitting there on the floor of the hallway. Ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone. He wanted to be alone so that he could pick up the broken pieces and stick them back, not caring how and where they would adhere.

The telephone stopped buzzing eventually. One final little vibration, and then, it became quiet. Yuuri wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve before he picked it out of his pocket. Four missed calls. _Strange number. Not Japanese anyway. Whatever._ And a text. _From the same number?_

_From:_ _+33 66 xxx xx xx_

_If you don't want to pick up, can you at least come outside?_

* * *

_Bingo._

Victor watched as Yuuri almost fell out of his apartment. He wanted to laugh. Cry. This was... amazing. He re-dialled. Saw Yuuri react with surprise. It seemed like he was fumbling with his phone, like he couldn't swipe it properly to pick up. He said nothing when he managed.

"Hey." Victor decided to help him out, get it out of the way.

He heard him cry. It made his heart sting a little. Up above, in that exterior corridor, he could see him bow his head. Cover his mouth with his hand.

"I see you," he continued. "Shall we meet? If you're nodding, I can't really tell. I'm not that close. So... how about it?" His face couldn't stop smiling, it made talking a whole lot more difficult.

He heard trembling inhales and exhales. Sniffs and sobs. But finally, he spoke.

"Where are you?"

"Walk down the stairs." He waited until he could see him. He wanted to run up to him, but decided to make him come to him instead. Just for the self-gratification.

"What now?" Yuuri's voice sounded a bit more different now. Determined, Victor figured.

"Cross the parking lot and turn right when you reach the street." He could hear him. His footsteps. His gained pace. Finally, he ran. His breathing picked up, it was evident through the phone.

Victor prepared himself. As Yuuri rounded the corner, he came to a complete standstill. In that moment, it was just them. Them and nothing else. Like so many times before.

"Hey. You found me."

* * *

Yuuri couldn't move. Although he thought that he couldn't possible produce any more tears, they kept on coming.

He felt his arms around him. It felt like breaking through the surface, catching that life sustaining first breath just when you think you're about to enter oblivion. But he still couldn't move.

"Oh, Yuuri..." Victor's voice was mild. Warm. Comforting. "I saw you, you know. There at the hotel. You came back."

Suddenly, his arms gained mobility and he clung to him. Held on for dear life. Dug his fingers into his clothes, wanting to dig into him. Reach his skin.

"When I saw you, I just knew that we had to do this. _This_." Victor had his fingers in his hair, keeping his head in place against his shoulder.

"I'm such a mess." He sobbed furiously between every word.

"I love that part about you too."

Yuuri tried to steady himself, tried speak without being interrupted by everything that was quivering. Both inside and out. "I just don't understand how you still can. After everything I've done."

"Maybe I'm stupid." He kissed his hair. "Maybe I just don't know better." Victor paused. "So... are you going to invite me to your place, or are we going to spend the rest of the day out here? We can give your neighbours a show."

Yuuri peered up at him, almost letting out a laugh. "No. Come."

Holding on to each other, they walked back.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Yuuri said as they entered, "but space really is an issue in Tokyo. It's really small." He bent over and picked up the bag of groceries from the floor. "Come in."

He watched Victor take off his shoes and coat.

"Victor?"

"Mhm?"

"I... uh, what about your flight?"

"What about it, Yuuri?"

He felt his cheeks heat up a little. He felt bad that he had second-guessed. _This is the Victor I know. The whimsical person who acts on impulse and impulse alone. This is when he's his most authentic self. He chose this. He wants this._

"No, nothing. I'm sorry." He gave him a small kiss. And another. And another. Suddenly, it became something else with hands underneath clothes. Tongues exploring and bodies being excruciatingly hot and close.

He broke away, winded. Shook his head a little. Victor responded by letting soft fingers caress his cheek.

"Okay?"

"I'm fine." He had to catch his breath a little. "Do you want anything? Coffee or...?"

"Sure."

They left the hallway. Yuuri went into the kitchen and motioned Victor to look around. He unpacked his groceries, being totally surprised with what he'd brought home. _I bought this?_ He started the coffee maker and put the kettle on for himself.

"I like studio apartments." Victor's voice came from behind, accompanied by his arms wrapping themselves around his torso. "Yuuri, I would like to stay here with you. For a while."

His words felt like a lightning strike. "How... how can you have such confidence, Victor? You just throw yourself into things even though... If I were you, I... I would have given up. I would have decided that it wasn't worth it. I would have left."

"Lucky you aren't me, then." He rested his head on Yuuri's shoulder. "I've missed this. Us. I want to explore that. Get to know you again."

Yuuri turned to face him. Victor's arms were still around him, down by his hips. It gave him confidence. The confidence to take a leap.

"I... I'd like that too." He paused. "We do have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

"We've got time." Victor brushed some black strands of hair out of Yuuri's eyes. "Right?"

"Right. By the way, how did you get my number?"

"I sent myself a text from your phone yesterday. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Really. It sounds like you planned this?"

"Hah, maybe I did?" He winked, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Hey, the coffee's done. Where do you keep your cups?"

Yuuri pointed at a cupboard and relished the caress as Victor let go.

* * *

"Victor?"

"Mhm?"

"I'm sorry. For everything."

"Don't be."

They rested in the sofa, Victor with his back against Yuuri's chest. He loved that he played with his hair.

"I just can't let it go. It's like I'm going to carry that weight for... well, forever, really."

"Yuuri, listen. It's okay." He tilted his head upwards, just to make a point with the help of eye contact. "I've been disappointed, true. I've been angry. Sad. I've even felt rejected. But it's okay. If you can honestly say to me that you're not doing this out of pity, that you're doing this because you want this then it's as good as any apology."

"It's so hard for me, you know? Accepting all this. The things I stole from us, you know? Time, youth, experiences. Love. Though... I've realised something today, Victor. I never fell out of love with you. I've always loved you. And that's why I've been so scared and angry. I never wanted to hurt you, but I just don't know how I can ever get around that. That's why I... did what I did, I guess. I'm so horribly disappointed, ashamed, with myself and how I've treated you."

Yuuri's lips were suddenly on his, soft and upside down.

"I don't know why I tried to fool myself. But it's like, oh, I don't know... Like, if I ever felt love for you again, if I remembered what we had, then I would want it again and most definitely hurt you in the process. I can honestly say that the thoughts are still there. Making me afraid that I'll hurt you. But at the same time... I want you. I just want you so much that it hurts!"

Victor put his hand on the back of Yuuri's neck and pulled him in. Telling him to hush, meet him and his lips. Trying to make him understand that everything would be okay. He tasted his lower lip, had it between his for a while, before letting him go. It made his knees weak, even when lying down.

"Stop. Just stop. You don't have to be afraid. You want this?"

"Yes! I want this! I want you!"

"Then, it's settled. Take the leap. I'll be there for you."

"You say it so matter of factly, like it's easy."

"It is easy, Yuuri. Just... let go. Let go of the old and just find out what everything new will bring. And... if you don't trust yourself, have some trust in me. Okay?"

And just like that, Victor had Yuuri in his arms. Understanding that he'd just done what was asked of him. And he was there, catching him as he took the leap.

* * *

He was woken up way too early. It was still dark outside, he figured that he had gotten maybe four hours worth of sleep. But, how could you possibly sleep when your chest was showered in soft kisses? It was indeed impossible.

He yawned. Or moaned, he wasn't really sure. He was tired, but the sensation was divine. Making him more alive and awake with every heartbeat.

"Yuuri...?"

"Sorry for waking you, I couldn't sleep at all. And I felt lonely."

"You couldn't sleep? Uncomfortable with having strange men in your bed?"

"Don't be stupid." It sounded so loving, strangely enough.

"I know that face. What are you up to, Yuuri Katsuki?"

"I'm taking a chance."

"Oh? Now, I'm extremely intrigued." Victor tried to sit up, but Yuuri's hand on his chest convinced him to stay where he was.

"You see, Victor I... was thinking. You had a lot of questions and I think all but one have been answered. Do you agree?"

Yuuri's kisses turned to licks and small bites. It was really distracting.

"I... don't really know, Yuuri."

"Think. Long and hard."

Victor laughed. _I really like this side of him. When he's comfortable, when nothing is bothering him, making him insecure... He's grown. He's amazing._ "I think you need to give me a hint or two. That's fair, right?"

"Oh, fair enough. Close your eyes. Good. Now, open your mouth. Just a little, that's enough."

It was a soft kiss when it finally arrived, but something unfamiliar touched his tongue. Something cool.

Victor's eyes flung open before they parted from each other. When Yuuri opened his, they were warm and filled with anticipation, his smile was... something else entirely.

"I just wanted you to know, Victor Nikiforov, that I'm a liar. Having said that, my answer is 'everything'. And I want to ask you if you might want to take the leap? With me?"

Victor never needed to fish out what had been left in his mouth by Yuuri to know what it was, but he did anyway. As he did, they held hands. Preparing themselves for a new chapter in life.

**~the end~**


	12. Prequel: Runaways, part one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Angstmas <3

 

He was patting away the water, dripping from the ends of his hair. Behind and below him, Barcelona's pulse was pounding. Making itself known through a myriad of flickering lights.

The shower he had taken just minutes before had helped him relax after a day that had kept on delivering realisation upon realisation. He had felt shaken, moved to the core because of what he had witnessed. He knew it was another world, standing by the boards and not being on the ice, but today, he had finally  _understood_ it. It had been just as exhausting, maybe even more nerve-wracking, but that was where the similarities ended between him being on the ice as an athlete and off it as a coach.

And the realisations kept on coming. Not just by standing on the side, but rather, by experiencing a journey he never thought was for him. Opening his eyes with an efficacy he felt humbled to experience. After so many years searching, looking for something he didn't know how to describe but felt a clawing need to find, annoyed with an itch he couldn't scratch, he finally knew what he wanted. He wanted  _that,_ everything the past eight months had offered. But also, he wanted it to continue.

It was true. Not only did he want for it to continue, he knew that he needed it to. Sitting there, drying his hair, he got a sudden influx to do one thing. Beyond his religion or common belief. He wanted to wish for something for Christmas. For once in his life.

The wish was simple and as he saw it, unmistakably close to becoming a reality. Thinking that made his heart beat so hard in his chest that he had to divert his thoughts a bit.

The wish? He wished that they could stay side by side until one day, years from now, his student chose to retire and then, they would spend life ever after. That was what the rings meant to him, that was what promises they had carried with them when they were exchanged on the steps of the Sagrada Familia. Surrounded by lights and an angelic choir, the warmth of the season manifesting itself just for them.

 _A life ever after. With him._  He felt his heart laugh, a vibration brought on by emotions almost too difficult to contain, and even harder to describe. One thing he could describe though, was that gold around necks really didn't matter. Gold around fingers did.

But first, there was something he'd been asked to listen to. Something he'd waved his hand at when he entered the shower with a 'later, Yuuri'. Something he felt giddy to hear, for his thoughts had been many and his fantasies hot underneath that stream.

"By the way, Yuuri… What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Right."

 _Oh_ , Victor thought to himself, his heart skipping a beat,  _he's smiling? Wonder what he could possibly_ _ㅡ_

"After the final, let's end this."

It was lightning strike, one where you end up being completely paralysed, not even managing to count the seconds until the boom. Surely, that wasn't what he'd heard him say. Yuuri must have used the wrong words, or better yet, he had misheard him. There was just no possibility.  _End this? What does that even mean?_

"Eh?" The low, disbelieving sound he managed to expire didn't match the noise that had started to build in his ears. Surging, drowning out everything else. Was it his pulse? No, it was something else. Something he'd never heard before. Something he didn't understood, that sound of his body screaming. Pleading with love to stay where it was.

"You've done more than enough for me, Victor. Thanks to you, I was able to give everything I had to my last season."

Victor's thoughts started to race. Even though his body had reacted to the words, his mind chose to continue on its beaten path.  _Why does he feel so serious? What is this? It's a joke, surely? No, what if this is_ _ㅡ_

Seeing Yuuri bow, folding over at the hip where he sat opposite on his bed, made him doubt. And the words that followed cemented the insecurity. Made him understand that his wish being granted suddenly became an impossibility, in more ways than one.

"Thank you for everything, Victor. Thank you for being my coach."

As the words found their way into him, Victor blinked. Blinked away the blur he couldn't understand. The blur brought on by his heart and soul feeling as lost as they were nine months ago. The blur caused by a cacophony of disbelief and fear. Mind and body met there when he was sitting with his back turned to the window. The life of Barcelona continuing down below, like nothing had happened.

His mind couldn't let go of the unacceptability. The nonsensical meaning of what he'd just heard. For they had exchanged rings! Said to friends and family that they were going to marry! Spent countless nights skin to skin! No, Yuuri wasn't getting away. Yuuri's place was next to him, and Victor knew he would do anything in order to keep him close and make him stay.

"Victor?"

Victor didn't know what to think, let alone do, when he suddenly noticed tears escape off his lashes and saw them land on his feet down below.  _I'm… crying?!_

"Damn..." Strangely, his voice didn't mirror what was going on just skin deep. It was contained, almost calm. This wasn't him, being so incapacitated, without passion. Not when everything he'd ever hoped for stood on the precipice, teetering over. "I didn't expect Yuuri Katsuki to be such a selfish human being."

"Right," he heard Yuuri reply, almost matter of factly, "I made this selfish decision on my own."

Victor tried to breathe then. Tried to disregard the blatant cheek to what Yuuri just had said. How he could, indeed, be so selfish. This wasn't Yuuri, without emotion and being uncanningly stoic. Putting himself before others. Not giving a shit. What had happened to him during the last twenty-four hours, what made him _ㅡ_

"I'm retiring."

Yuuri's words made Victor lower his head as his tears made a collective suicidal leap. He didn't understand. Minutes before, it had been fine. They had been fine. They had been laughing, discussing the drama that had played out around the short program, talking about the future and Yuuri had sounded so… perfectly normal. Selling the illusion of normalcy in a way that made Victor question everything.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Yuuri's hand. Immediately, thoughts started to race.  _You were kidding! I knew it, now, you're going to press your palm against my cheek, telling me that you were testing me. Telling me that you wanted to see if I wanted to be your coach or not! If I wanted to be with you or not! Yuuri, I do! I believe in you, I_ _ㅡ_

But Yuuri's hand didn't warm up his cheek, didn't catch any of his tears. Instead, he felt his hair being pushed aside which made him look. Made him meet those brown eyes he'd seen aqueous, too many times to count. Made him feel the warmth of a body he wanted so desperately to lean in and be close, but not like that. Definitely not like that! And suddenly, his rage broke out, started to seep out of his pores for it felt degrading. Belittling. Ridiculous even, for his fringe to be pushed away like some goddamn curtain after being slain by words he couldn't comprehend. Exposing his vulnerability. His sorrow of losing what had found him, saved him. For that's how it was, really. Being Yuuri's coach had breathed life into him. Brought him the love that fought for its life in that very moment.

"Yuuri, what are you doing?" Now, his voice started to get coloured by all of the things wanting to manifest themselves. The rejection, the anger, the need of keeping things just the way they were.

"Oh, I'm just surprised to see you cry."

Victor reacted instinctively, driven by said anger, as he slapped Yuuri's hand away. There was no compassion in Yuuri's eyes, telling Victor that he, no,  _they_ , had stopped to matter. Even Yuuri's word felt belittling, ridiculous and degrading. How could he be  _surprised?_ How could he not even pretend to understand what impact his words had? How could he think that what he just said  _didn't matter_?

"I'm mad, okay?!"

"You're the one who said it was only until the Grand Prix Final!"

 _How can he be so incredibly stupid?_  Victor wasn't sure what annoyed him more; the fact that Yuuri kept saying things that made it seem like he wasn't even  _aware_ of the last eight months and how their relationship had progressed, or the fact that Yuuri really seemed to think that being his coach was nothing but a pastime, a silly distraction. A Nikiforovian whim. He couldn't be more wrong.

In honesty, it was true, Victor had said that once. Maybe? He forgot, but that was before. Before nightly audiences, hands in places that made them both gasp, a kiss for the world to see. But before wasn't now, and why couldn't Yuuri see that? The change, the journey made? Of course, he wanted more of him! As a student, a lover, a friend, a husband eventually. No, definitely! He was a bottomless pit when it came to Yuuri and Yuuri was the only one who could possibly fill him. But why couldn't he see that?

Victor tried to calm himself, tried to see the situation from the outside. And then, as he took a breath, he felt a strange grounding as his thoughts started to slow down.  _But wait! He's retiring! That's what he said, he's retiring!_

He couldn't lie to himself. Even though it hurt in too many was to count, for Yuuri still had so much more to give and he, on the other hand, had so much more to show him, it was doable. They could end the skating part of their lives and find out together what would naturally come after a retirement. They just had to talk about it. Make the logistics work, somehow, how to merge their lives when the common factor was gone.

The fact is that it could have been worse.  _They_ could have ended but now, it was just the coach and student part of their relationship that Yuuri wanted nothing to deal with anymore. To Victor, that was something he could live with, if he had to. He just needed time to understand. To adjust to this new reality. Now, it was too raw.

"I thought you needed my help more," Victor said, low and hesitant. Wanting Yuuri to take what he'd just offered him, for the whole exchange seemed so incredibly capricious. Trying to make him take the bait and say that he, indeed, wanted another season together. And one after that, and one after that and _ㅡ_

"Aren't you going to make a comeback?" Yuuri had lowered his head as he said it. It seemed like he was struck by shame before doing so, Victor concluded. Or maybe… struck by a realisation? Nevertheless, something made Yuuri end up deep in thought, before he continued. "You don't have to worry about me _ㅡ_ "

"How can you tell me to return to the ice while saying you're retiring?!" Victor didn't even notice that he'd raised his voice whilst leaning in and gripping Yuuri's shoulder. The idiocy was beyond his grasp of understanding, making his blood not only simmer but almost evaporate due to his anger.

Why would Yuuri even ask a thing like that, after declaring his retirement? Why would Yuuri even think that there was any interest of going back to the ice? They had never discussed it before, if there was a pull to stand underneath the spotlights again. The both of them had seemed happy where they were, coaching and learning each other, and to Victor, that was all that mattered. Not a nervous and irrational decision made the night before a final. He just couldn't wrap his head around it and its reason.

Victor decided that if he wasn't going to get an explanation to why this was happening, to why Yuuri acted nonsensical, he would at least make Yuuri take in something. Something Victor saw as impossible to misinterpret; how much he loved him. No matter if Yuuri was on or off the ice.

* * *

Before his inner eye, Yuuri saw himself carry a box. One that he needed to protect and keep shut until Victor had settled. If the box was to open, for Victor's emotions were its key, all of the feelings, hopes and dreams locked away inside it would burst out, making him falter in the process. It would make him… yeah, he would go back on his words and that… wasn't what he wanted? He had decided already and Victor wasn't allowed to take that away from him, not now. Not now, when so many hours of trying to find the right path had led him to the one he'd just started to venture on. Not now, merely hours away from what would become his final skate.

"Victor, I just _ㅡ_ " The tightening grip around his shoulder made him wince, momentarily losing contact with Victor's eyes. Something he, in that very moment, felt grateful for.

Still looking to the side, he continued. "I just thought that's what you wanted. Ta-taking a break for a season and then return to skating yourself."

He glanced at Victor as his words died out, but they lingered in that room. He never thought that words could be like that, so thick and heavy. He never thought that he would utter words he didn't want to hear the answer to, because he had decided where their lives would end up when tomorrow was over.

It seemed like Victor's expression was the same, despite what he'd just said. Still as emotional with tears crowding each other in his eyes. Still as fueled by anger and disbelief, with a frown and bared teeth. But Yuuri couldn't shake the feeling. The feeling that Victor didn't understand. That he didn't realise what this  _really_ meant.

"Yuuri, why would you say this  _now_? What makes you think thatㅡ"

Instinctively, Yuuri put his hand over Victor's mouth. No matter what his answer would be, it wouldn't fit. It wouldn't fit his plan, what had been torturous to decide. He needed Victor to hush, to not say anything else for it was a risk that Victor would make him waver. So it just happened. Words started to spill out that he didn't have any control over. Words he wanted unsaid. Words that were cruel in an infinite amount of ways, to the both of them.

"Victor, what… what if we decide afterwards? After the free skate?"

Yuuri saw how Victor softened, then. How his tears stopped refilling, stopped pushing each other and just settled in line until they were blinked away. Inside, he cursed himself. Cursed himself for getting Victor's hopes up, cursed himself for not standing his ground, cursed himself for loving him too much.

Feeling Victor's hand on his own, as it got removed from Victor's mouth felt like fire. But not the fire he was used to, not the consuming heat that appeared whenever they were close. Not whenever hands were on the other, their bodies pressed together and filling the other's gaps. This was something else. Something that scorched him, hurt him. Because he knew what it meant, that touch, although he fought with himself not to acknowledge it.

"Is that okay?" He wriggled his hand out of Victor's grip and gave his chest a small push with just a few fingers. He needed the distance. His shoulder was slowly released, as Victor ended up leaning back against the window again.

Victor responded with an almost invisible nod, looking at something invisible on the floor. Victor's jaw was almost compulsively tightening and relaxing, time and time again. Fighting something on the inside Yuuri couldn't even bear to think about.

"Then… I'd like to go to bed," Yuuri whispered and got to his feet, almost to distract himself. Standing up, he allowed his fingers to grab the gray bedspread and pulled it down to the foot of his bed.

He started to undress, and didn't bother to put on any sleepwear before he slid underneath the duvet, shivering slightly when his skin touched the sheets. He reached for the switch of the lamp on the nightstand, and felt his heart clench when he saw Victor, still sitting with his back against the window. Still looking at something only he could see.

An inner struggle, to call him to bed or not. To have him close or not. To pretend that it was fine or not. To sell an illusion or not.

He felt his vocal chords tense up, his tongue slowly forming the beginning of Victor's name. The tension remained for a few seconds before he exhaled, and turned off the light. But Victor remained immovable, his back illuminated by the lights from the outside.

Acting on its own accord, Yuuri felt his hand pull the duvet off himself, baring his back, his mouth actually releasing what had only been forming inside.

"Victor," he heard himself say, "come to bed. You… you need to feel rested tomorrow too."  _Trust me on this._

After a few heartbeats, Yuuri saw Victor stand up and shrug himself out of the bathrobe. Yuuri bit his bottom lip, stifling the sound that threatened his decision.

Victor was beautiful. In truth, Yuuri had yet to see him anything but. The way the faint light touched his skin, making him look like one of the statues they'd passed on their way to Sagrada Familia the day before, made Yuuri look away. To think that the amount of times he would have this view, have Victor close, actually could be counted from this evening forward, made his eyes tear up. He wanted more, so much more but he knew that it was an impossibility. It would be the end of Victor Nikiforov, Russia's living legend of figure skating, to stay by his side. It was cruel to keep him there. If anything, keeping him close was selfish. Making decisions on his own that applied to them wasn't!

Without a word, Victor moved. It seemed like a few hesitant steps until he got into bed. Yuuri held his breath when he felt Victor inch closer, as close as he possibly could end up, with his chest pressed into Yuuri's back, his arms seemingly intent on erasing any space left in between them. Victor's hands travelled and ventured and journeyed over Yuuri's body, making Yuuri clench his teeth and tell his heart to stop with the racing.

As a result, of the warmth, hands all over, the sheer closeness of them, Yuuri felt Victor's body react to his. It was the first time it felt wrong, wrong to feel Victor's need for him as Victor's erection settled in between his buttocks. The irregular throbs made Yuuri doubt, doubt everything he'd said to Victor during that evening. But at the same time, he was filled with fear, because that's when it became clear to Yuuri that Victor didn't understand.

How to lay someone down gently when even the slightest drop would be attributed with so much pain?

"Victor?" Yuuri whispered. It was easier keeping his voice in check with it being low and strained. "Can you… stop touching me like that? I… I can't sleep if you do."

Victor's hands stilled and forgot, stilled and forgot, until they disappeared along with the warmth that had covered Yuuri's back. Yuuri didn't dare to ask, let alone look. But if he had, he would have seen them sleeping curled up, back to back. Not sharing a bed anymore.

 

**~**~**

 

It felt like a mistake, waking up. Then, he became aware that even though he had made up his mind, his body had acted on instinct and habit. Waking up, he found himself close, around and against Victor. One arm resting on top of Victor's chest, the other attached around Victor's waist. His head against Victor's shoulder, locked in place by Victor's hand. Their legs entwined like a lover's knot made of flesh, impossible to see where they began and ended.

He had to reason with himself, remind himself. Even though he  _knew_ that they previously shared a conversation about what would happen, the consequences of said conversation less than a day away and slowly counting down, it never  _felt_ like they had. Maybe, he tried to reassure himself, it had been a bad dream?

Then, he became more aware. More conscious of Victor's naked body, against his own, and realised that it was just wishful thinking.

He blinked away the sleep in his eyes, and felt a flash of repulsion.

_This is wrong._

But what actually was wrong, was something Yuuri found hard to grasp and understand. Thinking about it while listening to nothing but Victor's slow and deep breaths, couldn't make him any wiser. He came to the conclusion that 'this' wasn't sufficient to explain what was wrong. 'Everything' was probably more apt.

Everything? How was it wrong to feel Victor's arms around him, a thought flickered questioningly, disappearing almost as quickly as it came. How was it wrong to feel like he had been seen, met and appreciated for who he was, without ever being asked to change? How was it wrong to feel the same immense loㅡ

_This is wrong!_

He understood it now. What was wrong was his ambivalence. His childish need of detachment from what already had been said and done. The moment of hesitation, if there was a chance to undo what had taken him months to decide. Also, it was wrong of him to feel that way. For him to think that way about Victor. As something he could have, as something that wasn't wrong. Something he  _wanted_. After all, he had decided. There was no turning back.

Astonishingly, Yuuri managed to untie himself. Loosen not only human knots but also human bonds as he slid out of bed, if only by so little. The change in temperature made his skin turn bumpy, his body tenaciously trying to convince him to seek out that warmth again. Before his mind got persuaded, he moved as quietly as he could away from that seductive warmth, that stillness. That sight of tousled silver hair, lips separated ever so slightly, that space that he knew he could fit perfectly back into but so simply left behind.

He tiptoed towards the bathroom and closed the door behind him with the softest of clicks. He needed to shower. Prepare himself for morning practise. Rid himself of that scent. Maybe, that would make it easier. Make him more steeled to face what was to come.

Of all the truths in the world, cruel or kind, why did he have to feel that waking up was indeed a mistake? In that split second it took to fully remember the night before and start with the excruciating process of getting Victor washed off of his body, Yuuri realised one thing. The ultimate mistake, a remnant of his cowardice; he hadn't allowed Victor to understand that they would end. Today, he would have to make him see.

* * *

It had taken Victor forever to fall asleep. His night had been full of mental replays, with him mulling over every word he remembered Yuuri had said. In truth, the words he remembered weren't many. They had boiled down to two sentences after hours of twisting and turning, after hours trying to remember everything exactly but distorting everything with every new take.

' _Let's end this'. 'I'm retiring'._

His eyes flew up, as he remembered. It wasn't a dream. They actually had that conversation.

He started to scan the room, paw the empty space of the bed to his right. He felt the small indentation, the warmth of something not attributed to himself in the mattress.

"Are you kidding me? Why would you evenㅡ"

He didn't know what to feel. How to react, or if he even should. So he interrupted himself thinking out loud by letting his mind off its leash, sensed it get to work immediately by digging deep.

It could be his secret. Knowing that Yuuri had slept close to him anyway, after telling him off, was a powerful thing. It gave Victor confidence, soothed some of the grating and mismatched sensations inside him. If Yuuri chose to sleep close to him again, it was in his favor, after all. It showed that Yuuri thought of them in the same way as before. That there would be something worth protecting and continuing, even after the Grand Prix Final.

It didn't take Victor many seconds to realise that it was something that could be used as leverage too. Ammunition if he ever had to prepare to take the shot. It felt satisfying in a way. He had Yuuri still and he could easily back him up against a wall and declare a checkmate if he had to. Suddenly, Victor felt satisfied. Empowered.

Victor heard a noise from the bathroom and decided to seek Yuuri out, his newfound conviction acting as a guiding light. He got out of bed in one smooth move and took the few strides necessary to reach the bathroom door. He put his hand on the handle of the door and realised that he felt calm. A fantastical contrast to yesterday's state of mind.

As he opened the door, he heard a yelp from the direction of the shower. Not really what he was expecting.

"You scared me!" Behind the water droplet spangled glass door, Yuuri's eyes were large and round as he was looking up, his hand reaching after a bottle of shampoo on the tiled floor.

The look they shared made Victor stop breathing, made the smile melt off his lips. There was something different in Yuuri's eyes, behind that fleeting expression made out of surprise. It was a look he'd seen before, a look that had followed him throughout the years. A look he thought he'd managed to protect himself from, especially now that he'd finally opened up, let someone else in and dared to realise what he really wanted.

"I-uh…" Victor tried to harness the storm, tried to make his inward breaths act as a feeble countermeasure.

"What's that?" Yuuri wasn't looking at him now. He was busy lathering up his hair, his eyes closed underneath the cascading water.

"I…" Victor began, before he let out a shivering sigh, not attributed to the fact that he was standing there, naked. "It's nothing," he continued as he turned on his heels, "nothing at all."

Victor closed the door behind him and went back to the bed. He sat down and put his face in his hands. Even though he tried not to make it so, that look Yuuri had given him materialised on his closed eyelids and etched itself in. Not only on his retinas, but in his mind.

It was a look that preceded every goodbye he had ever experienced.


	13. Prequel: Runaways, part two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have an angsty new year!

Victor could smell him, even before he came out of the bathroom. That scent was still a mystery to him, how they could smell so differently while using the same products. Everything that came across Yuuri's skin, whether it was perfume, deodorant or body wash, always smelled so much more than on his own. Yuuri's scent was more rich, more full.

Victor always thought scents smelled muted on himself, took forever to blend with his skin and body heat to create a sillage, but on Yuuri… well, he was different. They were different, like polar opposites, the mere makeup of their beings affecting banal things like hygiene products in vastly different ways.

Victor studied Yuuri as he came out of the bathroom, with his hair wet and a towel around his waist. Bringing that intoxicating smell with him, slowly but surely taking over the room.

"I forgot to bring clothes, uh, in there," Yuuri excused himself, diving into his luggage.

"Take the black ones," Victor replied, voice slightly strained, referring to the Mizuno ensemble with the long sleeved t-shirt. "I don't want you to get cold during downtime."

Victor could hear Yuuri make some kind of noise in agreement, but he barely registered it. His attention was elsewhere, his eyes trailing the water drops chasing down Yuuri's hunched back. He found himself wishing for something stupid, something entirely different from yesterday, seeing those drops of water tumbling down only to get caught by the towel.

Victor wanted to know what he could do. What was okay, what was off limits. If they could still act the way they had, be the way they were. But, inside, he felt a fear. He didn't want to be pushed away. Not again. Never again. So he made the decision to be Yuuri's shadow for the day. To not bubble over and smother him with the love and affection that made his chest hurt and his hands fight themselves by containing them. After all, Yuuri had wanted to make his decision after the Grand Prix Final, and maybe, he would see things differently if given space. Victor desperately needed him to.

Seeing Yuuri dress was painful. The small glimpses Victor got of Yuuri as he put on his underwear, his sweatpants and t-shirt made him breathless, made him almost gasp for air. It was like what was sustaining him drifted further and further away, and even though he tried, he couldn't get any closer. It was like those nightmares he had when he was younger, where he'd been running, chasing something he knew was for him, just out of reach. With building desperation, but not getting any closer at all.

All Victor wanted was to know if Yuuri missed having his hands on him, 'helping' him dress. If he missed the small nips to the side of his neck. His breath caressing his ear. If he missed that morning kiss he had yet to give and receive. He decided to find out. At least, about the kiss.

"Yuuri… before we go down to eat breakfast, I kind of," Victor started, taking the three steps or so to stand by Yuuri's side, "wanted to wish you good luck."

His fingers brushed against Yuuri's shoulder, inching closer to the nape of his neck, the skin exposed just above the neckline of his shirt.

Their eyes met, briefly, before Yuuri looked away. Before he answered with a muted 'thank you'.

As Victor leaned in, almost drunk on Yuuri's scent, the heat from his body, it happened. A small, almost invisible lean to the side. Yuuri's hand on his, removing it from his shoulder. A sigh, maybe, it could have been an ordinary exhale, and aㅡ

"No, Victor… I… No-not now, okay? I need to…"

"Sure," Victor replied. Not fully knowing what he'd agreed to, but feeling an indescribable void take over once he did. Still feeling the warmth and the smell of the man that had pushed him away, sought him out and now, pushed him away anew.

"Also," Yuuri continued, "can't you put something on? We… we should go and you're not…"

Victor stood for a few seconds and allowed the words to sink in. Then, he got dressed. Then, he watched Yuuri head for the door. Then, he saw himself follow him, exactly like the shadow he'd promised himself he would be. As they walked through the corridor, heading for the lift, a thought passed through his mind. One that, in essence, summarised what he felt with just a few words as it was carried through his subconscious to his conscious mind. Carried on nothing but a vibrant smell.

_Ready? How can I ever be?_

* * *

To Yuuri's relief, for being locked in a room with Victor felt nothing less than volatile, they managed to get out of the room. First for breakfast and then, and down to the rink and the public morning practise. They didn't talk, not much, and Yuuri couldn't disregard the blatantly obvious; that the energy between them had shifted somehow. That energy was muted now, almost tentative and asking for permission. It wasn't as enthusiastic, as axiomatic, as it had been up until yesterday. Yesterday, when smiles and and touches were welcomed and sought after. Yesterday, when he'd been comforted after a horrible short program. Yesterday, when he tried to find courage to actually say it.

As the practise went by, it started to build. Yuuri could feel it inside himself. The change, the difference and what they meant. The hesitant thoughts hailing from the deepest, darkest parts of himself. Thoughts where he was trying to picture a life without skating. Without fitting in.  _Without Victor._  Even though he wanted it to be different, still yearning to succumb to all those wonderful what-ifs, he decided that he wouldn't quake. He couldn't, it was too late for that. So, he kept quiet with his head low, focused on staying out of the way of the other skaters. Hoping desperately that he and Victor would pass under the radar, despite them not being themselves anymore.

But even though his resolve was wobbly, constantly going back and forth, Victor was there, still. Silently supporting him, despite what had happened between them. Following his every move with a serious look, with eyes as cool as the ice he skated on. When Victor said something, and Victor's words had been easily counted that day, his voice mirrored the frozen stare, the set jaw and tense shoulders. This wasn't the Victor Yuuri was used to, but Yuuri knew that he needed to contain himself in order to make it work. In order to show the world that Victor had done something with his time, something that no one could ever dismiss. He knew that he needed to flawlessly perform that free skate and in order to feel confident about pulling that off, he needed to feel good once the practise was over.

"No need trying jumps you haven't landed up until now, Yuuri," he heard Victor say as he was handed his water bottle. "I know what a flubbed jump will do to you. Save what you got until the free skate, okay?"

Yuuri nodded in reply, perplexed by how much of a coach Victor had started to sound like. Victor's personality seemed gone, all of those million indistinctive and small things that made Victor… well, Victor were seemingly washed away. Instead, Victor sounded clinical, technical. Incredibly impersonal. Yuuri thought he knew why that was, though. He figured that Victor had decided to keep a low profile too. Maybe, Victor did it to appease him. Maybe, Victor did it to distance himself from what he thought he was losing.

He didn't want him to.

Yuuri felt his chest hurt, because there was so much more to it than that. So much more that needed to be said. So much more that Victor needed to know. All of it felt beyond difficult to explain, but the common factor was that Victor needed to be set free. Victor just didn't know it himself. He just didn't know what people were thinking, saying, hoping would happen after this season. He just didn't know  _anything_.

With an inaudible sigh, Yuuri did his best not to look directly at him. He felt saddened by the realisation of where they had ended up, just because of him voicing his decision. Distraught by knowing that in a few hours time, they would do their last competition together as coach and student and thenㅡ

"Next skater with starting number three, Yuuri Katsuki," the speakers echoed. "Skaters, please leave room."

Yuuri put his water bottle on the edge behind him, and saw how the other skaters vacated the center of the ice by skating closer to the boards. He felt a pull on the back of his t-shirt as he dug the toe pick into the ice, preparing himself to head off.

"Yuuri…"

Yuuri didn't look back, afraid that the blue eyes he felt burning his back would end him if he made contact with them. But, he dared to let one word ride on his exhale.

"Yes?"

"Don't do anything stupid. Not today."

Yuuri shifted his weight and pushed himself forward, feeling Victor's fingers lose their grip of his t-shirt. Feeling the fabric gently flick against his back. With Victor's words looping in his head, trying hard not to let the multiple interpretations dig their way into him, he got into position. Then, he breathed, as he prepared himself to skate to  _Yuuri on Ice_ for the second to last time in his life.

* * *

He'd remained his shadow. Silently observing him, answering only when being asked something directly, feeling like the only reason he was there was because he had to. Now, Victor watched Yuuri warm up, hearing the crowd cheer as what's-his-face sat in the kiss and cry, waiting for his scores. Seems like he bounced back, that asshole.

The day had passed by so quickly since morning practise. Being the coach and now, the shadow, made him see how much focus it actually took to be the competitor. Strange, how he'd never noticed that before. Yuuri seemed fine though, despite the looming pressure. Despite being stopped and asked for interviews several times. Despite being asked idiotic questions about his coach instead of his own achievements. Despite nudges by fellow skaters, despite their comments about what would happen if he was to win gold. Despite… the decision he had to make after the final was over.

Strange, how composed he was, Victor thought. How he could keep his focus. This Yuuri was eternities apart from the Yuuri he'd started to coach. The Yuuri that never had allowed himself to express his sexuality or play with its expression, on or off the ice. The Yuuri he had shattered and comforted in a parking garage in China. Also, this Yuuri was… something he still wanted. Something he still couldn't picture himself without, for this Yuuri was just a piece of all of the things that made him complete. Perfect. Utterly flawless in his eyes.

_Wonder if gold will change that? Wonder if it will change anything?_

Cheers brought Victor out of his train of thought, making him glance at Yuuri. Yuuri was stretching out his back and shoulders, slowly stopping as he heard the applause.

It was time. So, Victor followed him. Like he'd been conditioned to do nothing else. Through the curtains that separated the rink from the skaters' area, silently taking Yuuri's skate guards before he prepared himself to enter the ice.

Victor exhaled slowly, prepared himself to see nothing else than Yuuri's back like he had in the morning. Prepared himself for that distant, unknown Yuuri that he yearned to get to know more. Surprisingly, Yuuri never left the boards. Instead, he was holding on to them, facing him, but not meeting his gaze.

"Don't worry," Victor said, trying to sound cheerful. Trying to stay inside that new persona he'd forced himself to dress up as. "You can win gold, Yuuri."

On its own accord, Victor's hand sought Yuuri's, the one that was gripping the boards. He touched it slightly at first, but ended up holding it instead.

"Believe in yourself," he added simply. Not really knowing what else there was to say. Why Yuuri's eyes were looking down instead of at him.

"Hey, Victor…"

Victor felt his hand pulsate as his grip eased up, as if he'd crossed an invisible line by touching Yuuri. Like it was something that was forbidden now, something not in a shadow's place to do.

"I told you before that I wanted you to stay the way you were, right? Don't suddenly start trying to sound like a coach now."

A spark of hope. It couldn't be described as anything else. Victor felt air being drawn into his lungs, his body fully focused.  _This could only mean that he_ ㅡ

Oh, how Victor wanted to touch him. That cheek, those lips... but when he tried to move his hand, Yuuri was the one gripping his. Holding on to it without letting go.

"I want to smile," Yuuri continued, "for my last time on the ice."

Suddenly, the last part of Yuuri's sentence didn't matter. Victor saw an opportunity, an open door. It felt relieving, the fact that Yuuri himself had allowed him this. That Yuuri had explicitly told him that he didn't want him distant the way he had been. Yuuri had given him the gift of correcting things, make things right. So, Victor leaned in, and as he felt the warmth from being that close to Yuuri, that close to Yuuri's face with those eyes and those lips so tantalisingly within reach, he shrugged off the shadowy cloak.

"Yuuri, listen to me. I debated whether I should tell you this now, but I took a break after becoming the five-time world champion to coach you, so…"  _I'm going to make you see that we need each other, Yuuri. You and me._ "How is it possible that you still haven't won a single gold medal?"

Victor watched without blinking, not willing to miss out on anything. On Yuuri's reaction, the moment itself… This wasn't only important, it was crucial for their sustenance.

Yuuri's soft intake of air, his enlarged eyes that finally,  _finally_  met Victor's made Victor feel like he the gold Yuuri was chasing.

"How much longer," Victor continued, suddenly feeling slightly more confident, more like himself, "are you going to stay in warm-up mode?"

Victor dared to lean in and catch Yuuri in an embrace, something he'd been wanting to do for all those torturous and distant hours. He pulled him close, heady on the contact between them when he added, "I really want to kiss the gold medal."

And suddenly, it felt just like before. With Yuuri's arms around his neck, Yuuri's face seeking the comfort of his shoulder, Victor dared to laugh. Laugh together with the person he loved, more than life itself. As they held on to each other, their laughs and clambering embrace trying desperately to make up for the lost time, Victor realised that it could be just like before. He just had to be patient, because Yuuri needed him. Just as much.

* * *

It became a blur when reality elbowed itself in and took center stage. When Yuuri heard his name getting called, asking him to take the ice in order to finish his journey, eight months in the making. Yuuri sought Victor's hand and held it. Felt the gold of their rings rub together, just briefly, as he let Victor go. A rehearsal preceding what was to come.

_I've already made my mind up about my goal._

Yuuri headed off towards the center of the ice, not hearing the cheers and the applause. To him, he still felt that he was a dime-a-dozen figure skater. One that had been blessed for one season in order to make something with his life as a skater. To burn brightly, just like a firework or a shooting star, only to fade and be forgotten the following second. He had been blessed, because that was in essence what Victor was. Something given to him by chance, something he had no right to keep. Something fleeting.

Yuuri took a deep breath and waited for the piano to start. Then, he moved. Seeing, before his inner eye, Victor doing the choreography with him. His muscles acting on their own, feeling the music take him over, second by second.

_For more than half my life, I've been trying to catch up to Victor. Thank you for bringing me all the way here, Victor._

When the piano became supported by the violin, he closed his eyes, just for a second, and tried to swallow whatever was growing in his throat. When the sounds of the two instruments started to merge and carry each other, flawlessly filling in each other's blanks, making something that sounded beyond divine together, he wanted to push.

He remembered himself barging into Victor's room and accidentally stepping on Makkachin, when he first had received the song. How excited he had been, how proud he had been.  _Yuuri on Ice_ was important in so many ways. He had become empowered, simply by being allowed to convey  _his_ feelings and motion through movement and music of  _his own choice_. More importantly, being allowed to take control of the creative process had infused him with something that his previous coaches never had been able to.

He wanted Victor to be proud of him, and he knew he had it in him. There was a budding confidence there, like a heart trying its first beats in life. Trying to understand the rhythm, trying to understand how to do it on its own.

_My performance needs to be better than flawless for a chance at the gold. I've been thinking ever since the short program that I'd like the final free skate of my career to have the same difficulty as Victor's._

The quadruple toe loop felt smooth, easy, and Yuuri barely registered the effect it had on the audience. He was too focused, going back and forth from being in his head to being in his body.

_Do you realise it now, Victor? I don't want it to end here. I want to be in figure skating with you forever. But you staying on as my coach means slowly killing you as a competitive skater._

Yuuri felt the music course through him as he did the step sequence. He couldn't describe the feeling, only register it, as his body moved. Almost on its own accord.

_Look at the Victor who lives on inside me. You becoming my coach wasn't a waste of time. I'm the only one in the world who can prove that._

Yuuri caught a glimpse of Victor when he skated past him in a step sequence, preparing the final jump. He was going to make him proud. He was going to surprise him. He was going to make him feel that their relationship hadn't been for nothing.

When he landed the quadruple flip, Yuuri understood that was how it was.  _Yuuri on Ice_ was  _them_. It had always been about them. How they added depth and fullness to each other. How they complimented each other. Lifted each other. How they could seem fantastic alone, but complete and invincible together. Adding colours to the canvas of the other. But he had to retire. End the push and pull. The give and take. It was for Victor, after all, and what greater token of love is there than to let love go?

As the final notes of the piano started to fade as Yuuri exited his last spin, reaching out to Victor in his final pose, he realised something else. Something he never had thought about before.  _Yuuri on Ice_  had always been about them, and maybe, just maybe, he should have realised it sooner. In this new light, maybe it wasn't a coincidence that the piano was the first and last instrument to be heard in this routine.

_I don't want to go to the kiss and cry. Because going back there means it's over._

After all, that routine was about love. A love with its heart beating on borrowed time.

 

**~**~**

 

"Don't worry. Your performance was so perfect, I'm sure you'll get a great score."

Yuuri felt Victor's hand on his back. The heat seeping through his clothes and finding his skin was more reassuring than the words coming out of Victor's mouth. Sure, he was nervous about the score. He wanted to win, no, he  _really_  wanted to win but in the end, a gold medal would just be a reminder of this. What he once had.

It didn't really matter, the gold. Not when the reason for achieving it would be lost to him. That was what he was nervous about, sitting in the kiss and cry. He would lose him. He had to lose him, let him go. He still battled himself, for he didn't know when to say it, when to actually do it?

The speakers hummed, pulling a gasp out of him. " _The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 221.58, now in first place."_

Yuuri's head whipped to the side, his eyes vibrating in disbelief. He knew what it meant, that score of his, and he knew that Victor did as well. He was met by a smiling Victor, a Victor that looked sincerely pleased. Fervently proud. He reached for Victor's outstretched hand and prepared himself for a formal handshake, a handshake made between a coach and student where the student have surpassed everything imaginable, but was pulled into an embrace.

"Congratulations, Yuuri," he heard Victor whisper as he was pulled closer. "To have both Yuris beat my records is the ultimate bliss as a choreographer and coach, but it's the ultimate diss as a competitor."

Yuuri had to concentrate, although Victor's lips were next to his ear. It was a challenge to hear him over the cheers, but he was sure he'd understood him. He just had to make sure.

"Does that mean you'll come back?"

The ambiguous expression Victor gave him in return didn't matter. To Yuuri, it felt like a gleam of light had broken through the darkness. If Victor felt the need to get back to competitive skating, then… it would be okay, despite the clawing in his chest due to his heart not wanting to let go.

He just had to say the words. He needed to make sure.


	14. Prequel: Runaways, part three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it was supposed to be done by now but sickness and a sudden lack of inspiration made that impossible. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

He didn’t win gold.

Even though he tried, his efforts showed that it wasn’t enough. _He_ wasn’t enough. He had proved his worth or lack thereof, cementing the thoughts he had tried to keep away. Pretending to be worthy of the time and effort spent on his behalf, time he had selfishly stolen from the world’s most prominent skater was puerile at best. He knew that now, even though he wanted it to be different. All those what ifs. What if he had won, what if he could have been the one standing with gold around his neck. Then maybe, just maybe, the colour would have eased his bad conscience and stilled his cramping heart.

And just like that, the decision he’d voiced out aloud before suddenly felt right, like the only sane thing to go through with. Thoughts of low self-worth, thoughts of never being good enough, thoughts of not deserving any of this culminated, as the final doubts dissipated with every beat of the Russian national anthem.

After standing on the podium, receiving his first and last championship medal in his career as a professional figure skater, Yuuri reluctantly stepped off the carpet and skated towards the exit of the rink. It was unreal, how simple it was for life to just continue around him, not knowing or… maybe not even caring about what was going to happen to him in a few moments. When his time in the spotlight would end and itㅡ

_It’s over. It’s over. As soon as I step off the ice, it’s over and we… I have to…_

Yuuri’s hands found the sash around his neck and he removed his medal, feeling its weight dangling. He saw Victor stand beside the exit to greet him. He couldn’t help but wonder if Victor felt it too. That their time was running out and as soon as he stepped off the ice, that would be it.

His arms stretched out, on their own accord. Like they were presenting something else to Victor, something more important than a championship medal. And, in a way, they were. It had become so much more than a token of him placing second. That circular piece of metal embodied their time together, their relationship together, the possible hopes and dreams they shared together. Their life and love, compressed into such a simple thing that would outlast them.

_But it’s not gold. Victor wanted gold. I… wanted gold. Not that it matters now._

Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder if Victor knew that to him, he was more than a eight month old dream, sprung from nights thinking, days dreaming. Victor was half a lifetime and a hope for more, and letting him go would create not only a void within him but a loss he had yet to taste. A loss of himself, a feeling of being stranded without knowing where to go. Without knowing how to find himself. A loss, bigger than holding a silver medal in his hands.

For what was he, really, if not chasing Victor? If not trying meet him, skate on the same ice as him? Trying to be acknowledged by him? He would be nothing more than Yuuri Katsuki. Whoever he was behind mistakes and being unsatisfactory.

“It’s not a gold medal but…” Yuuri heard himself speak, his right foot suspended in the air before his skate touched ground. The impact resounded within him and created an echo that he, at least then and there, never realised he would try to deafen for years to come.

_That’s it. It’s final._

Victor’s face went from worried to smiling. But it wasn’t that genuine smile, that smile Yuuri had noticed Victor to be extremely sparse with. The smile he'd only seen Victor share with him. Instead, it was the smile he’d seen Victor fire off on too many occasions to count. The smile that hid so much more under the surface.

“I don’t feel like kissing it unless it’s gold. Man, I really wanted to kiss your gold medal.”

Yuuri started to back up as he saw Victor come closer. Victor, with that fake smile. Victor, with that ridiculous cheer in his voice. Victor, with his steady frame and magnificent scent. Victor, with eyes so blue like they were a deep sea trench, made for drowning into. The only end Yuuri wanted for himself.

“I’m such a failure as a coach,” Victor continued in the same tone of voice, and Yuuri wanted to tell him to stop. To stop pretending that he was fine, to stop coming closer. To stop saying things like that, because Victor was taking the responsibility away from him.

Yuuri felt the edge of the boards dig into the small of his back as Victor pressed himself against him, pushing his upper body backwards.

“Yuuri, do you have any suggestions? Something that would excite me?”

Victor’s breath was caressing his face. Even though it should probably tickle him, the way it swirled and danced when it made contact with his skin, it scorched him.

How easy it would be to fall for that. To just leap into Victor’s arms and erase everything he’d said and done to him, to the both of them. To find a million suggestions on how to excite him, to continue together to find a million more. To revel in being… _his._ But, this wasn’t such a moment. It was a moment of stopping the wheels that were turning, before they picked up speed.

Yuuri swallowed. He swallowed the words that wanted to roll off his tongue. He swallowed, and hoped that they would disappear inside him, inside that ever expanding void.

“What did you think just now?”

“Oh, um… well…”

With those words, his hands gripped Victor’s shoulders.

* * *

 

“I… I’m…”

Victor caught himself holding his breath. Silly, how it felt important. Almost like holding it in would somehow affect the course of things, prevent things from swaying in the wrong direction. But they had things to say to each other, and words ride on exhales. Thusly, making his whole way of reasoning moot.

With a voice not sounding like it had done just moments ago, not at all with that detached cheer but rather, with a nervousness or a slight anxiety, Victor answered. “Yeah?”

The smile on his lips wouldn’t wane, though, despite the tone in his voice. The smile felt stuck, acting as a feeble shield against what he knew was coming. For, in all honesty, Victor had seen the look on Yuuri’s face when he was being shoved down a place by Plisetsky. When he was standing on the podium, receiving silver. When he skated over to step off the ice. When he desperately tried to form words, words Victor already knew.

And just like that, they came. Those words, dreaded, low and whispery, spoken just for him.

“I’m retiring, Victor. I’m… not going to skate anymore. So, thank you. For this.”

Victor exhaled, then. Hearing the words out loud, told to his face… strangely enough, they actually felt like a surprise. Like a slap across the face. Something that forced him to wake up with a jolt and desperately made him try to find his footing again, even though he had foreseen it.

“Oh,” he replied, impelling himself to look into Yuuri’s eyes.

This time, they didn’t look like the eyes from the night before. The eyes that had been behind a pair of glasses, eyes previously so persistent and calm. Decisive and not at all nostalgic. They were showing so much more now, everything from thought to emotion flickering past their retinas. They were shivering now. Glistening, making them look star studded and bleeding emotion upon emotion at the same time.

“Are you sure?” Victor breathed his question, as low as he possibly could. Feeling Yuuri’s hands on his shoulders, his own around Yuuri’s elbows. Yearning to stay, just like that. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

To Victor, it felt like a hesitation. The amount of heartbeats that painfully continued to strum what was stirring inside him before Yuuri’s answer finally came. And when it came, it was just a nod. Just a simple, almost aggravating nod that seemed to belittle the both of them. What they had worked for and ended up with. What they could keep, have and achieve.

“I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to make this decision,” Victor started, keeping his voice steady but letting his hands slide off of Yuuri’s elbows in a way he hoped was inconspicuous for he was trembling, “but I respect it. I respect you. So…”

“So…” Yuuri parroted and to Victor’s regret, slowly let his shoulders go but leaving behind a heat. One Victor wanted to keep on his skin.

“Do you want to go and change now?” He said it in a slightly louder voice as he corrected his coat, thinking that it might erase the creases. Emotional or not.

“I probably should,” Yuuri whispered. His fingers slid across the blades of his skates to remove the ice, before he began putting his skate guards on.

“And then?”

“I don’t know.”

For some reason, Yuuri’s ambiguous answer to his own just as ambiguous question never latched on to him. Victor was busy, his mind being that of a child’s in that moment, when he tapped into his yearning. The only thing he knew he wanted, was to have Yuuri to his own for the rest of the evening. He wasn’t out to question him about his retirement, not to make him reconsider his decision but rather, map out the uncharted territory of their relationship _sans_ skating, _sans_ being coach and student. What would that do to them, with him still not entirely sure what to do with his own career and Yuuri leaving the skating scene? What to do with the rest of their lives?

 _Whatever_ , Victor thought to himself, watching Yuuri’s back as they headed for the locker rooms. The night was still young and they had time. They could still make it work.

 

**~**~**

 

It wasn’t an evening out, nor a dinner Victor had expected them to have. Not after the previous events and conversations they’d shared. In retrospect, he should have known that their party of two would grow, denying them the privacy. Yuuri had made an incredible journey underneath his guidance. Thinking that his family and friends present in Barcelona wouldn’t want to share that with him, was downright stupid.

Although initially annoying, Victor actually found himself slightly more relaxed with the company as the evening progressed. He enjoyed it even, stopping maybe a couple of drinks too late of being on the sober side of the scale, being enthusiastically spurred on by both Minako and Mari who’d insisted to not only join them, but to drink. It felt good, getting his senses dulled, having his mind focused on other things. Not realising that it made him forget things he probably shouldn’t have.

Naturally, the conversation during dinner was mostly held in Japanese, with Yuuri interpreting this and that, jokes mostly, and Minako slowly losing her proficiency in English with an alarming speed. Even though the three of them, them in this case being Victor, Minako and Mari, tried to get Yuuri to loosen up, he refused the offered alcohol.

“No, the exhibition skate is tomorrow. I told you that I can’t,” Yuuri answered repeatedly, much to Victor’s regret.

As the evening slowly started to tiptoe its way into night, the party dispersed. Leaving Victor a little unsteady on his feet together with a suddenly not so talkative Yuuri. Victor, with love gushing out of every pore, suddenly deciding that he wanted to show Yuuri just how much thanks to loosened inhibitions. If he just… could make Yuuri walk side by side. Hold his hand. Feel his lips against his own.

“Yuuri, come on! Slow down a little, okay?”

“You’re drunk, Victor.”

“Maybe,” he laughed. Trying to reach for Yuuri’s arm but not succeeding, his fingers just brushing against the fabric of Yuuri’s jacket.

Victor decided to change his approach and made a few elongated strides instead, effectively catching up to Yuuri in the process. His arm automatically found its way around Yuuri’s shoulders and pulled him a little closer. But, and Victor couldn’t really understand why that was, his arm was promptly shrugged off.

So he tried again and this time, his arm was pushed away.

“Are you in a bad mood?” With that question, Victor tried to find a reason. An explanation to his rejection, and added, “Is it because I’ve been drinking?”

“No,” Yuuri replied, his eyes looking nowhere else but forward.

“Hmm…” To a slightly intoxicated mind, a mind that had forgotten all about small cues and blatant clues, all about words and how they had made him feel, it made no sense. Mainly, because there wasn’t anything that could be bothering the silver medalist. At least that’s what the slightly intoxicated mind concluded, and decided that it wanted to continue where it had left off. With hands needing to touch, a body craving closeness, a mouth wanting to be filled.

“There’s no one else here, Yuuri,” Victor breathed, slowing down as they walked down the narrow alley. Just a corner shy of their hotel.

“Victor… Can’t we just go back? It’s late as it is.”

“No.”

And thus, Victor hands touched. First, Yuuri’s arm to pull him into a stop. Then, the collar of Yuuri’s coat to pull him in. Then, the back of Yuuri’s head, followed by gloved fingers digging into hair, posing question upon question. Finally, Victor stepped closer, his body taking what it sought. Pressing against, no, into Yuuri until the stone wall caught and held the fabric of Yuuri’s clothes with a soft hiss.

A small offensive strike, with his head tilted to the side. Parted lips. Fingers brushing away black strands of hair. A caressing breath, saturated with alcohol. Blue eyes stuck on a darker pair, not even blinking.

“You know I lied about only kissing gold, right?”

Instant gratification. Nothing else could describe the feeling of seeing the pupils in those brown eyes expand for that microsecond. How the mouth that he wanted to invade suddenly opened and closed. How that small, almost inaudible intake of breath said everything he wanted to hear.

In that fleeting moment, Yuuri was looking as golden underneath the streetlight as the medal they’d been chasing. So Victor took and received, feeling his heart race and his knees getting weak. All the while his mind drifting further and further away, away from all of the things it should have remembered in order to protect itself.

* * *

 

As his high started its inevitable decline, slowly setting his mind free of its shackles of arousal, Yuuri desperately wanted to forget. Forget about falling, deeper and deeper. Forget about not denying the both of them what they just shared. Forget about the night he was mounted and ridden, not only by a debilitating guilt and an incomparable shame. For Victor was sleeping next to him. Too close, too entwined, too bare.

Why didn’t he refuse him? Why did he fall for the eyes, the hands, the lips that kept on asking for more? Why did he fall for the body that tentatively got closer until it had invaded him, until he’d reciprocated with a fire that had burned away anything reminding him of sense, reason and composure? He had decided a long time ago that _this_ wasn’t allowed, but the boundaries had been pushed forward ever since he declared his retirement in that very room. And apparently, those boundaries ended up somewhere impossible. Somewhere he’d wished for them not to.

It was too late now. Too late for making things right, for _it_ had happened already. Yuuri knew this, felt the consequences coursing through his body. Victor’s hands had been scorching all over his naked skin, Victor’s tongue had been in his mouth, Victor’s body had… made his own move and find a perfect pace. A resonating rhythm. It had made him say yes to a corporeal dance that had made them melt and fuse into each other, even though he’d promised himself otherwise.

_Ever since Rostelecom._

Yuuri knew that he should have said it all, done it all. Anything and everything that could have made him sure that there weren’t any room for misunderstandings. But here they were. His head on Victor’s chest, encapsulated by arms growing lax and unknowing. A misunderstanding that he knew he would have to carry. One that was impossible to make correct.

Yuuri moved a little, trying to make the arms molded around him to let him go. At least that was possible. At least for now, when the owner of those arms wasn’t aware of what they were doing. Where he would go from here, he didn’t know, but he knew he had to do something. Something that would make this wrongfully taken step erased. Something that would make Victor understand that they weren’t for each other. No, something that would make _him_ understand that _Victor_ wasn’t _his_.

_That’s it._

He felt his lower lip tremble as the thought did a victory lap inside him. Affecting him in ways he thought he was prepared for but realising the contradiction immediately thereafter. This wasn’t really about him convincing Victor but rather, about him convincing himself.

The slow exhale was filled with a tremble, a grief Yuuri thought he had worked through months before. A sudden influx of anger too, for saying yes to Victor and to his own desire had braided them closer together. Inevitably so. How to loosen that bond, that knot, that delicately interwoven tapestry that his cowardice had not only added to but tightened all the same?

Out of habit, his lips touched Victor’s chest. Out of habit, he tasted and smelled the salty and warm skin. It only took a fraction of a second for the sensation to travel from his lips to his brain, and in that fleeting moment, hearing Victor’s heart beat straight into his ear, he knew how. He knew how he would set them free.

But that would have to come after. After the exhibition.

His mind started to race, creating a thick cloud where one thought was impossible to catch, identify and dissect. There was a window, when it would be possible to pull it off. When he could get away and take the steps needed. When he could actively do what his mouth and lips couldn't form, let alone say.

 _Yes_ , Yuuri thought. _Doing is easier. Much easier. It has always been. Ever since I first saw him, it was easier to walk away from him than to say anything. Victor he… he'll understand._

The plan started to form. Yuuri decided that he had to leave. After the exhibition. After the banquet. Before the flight back home. Somehow.

He needed to succeed. If he failed, he would keep coming back to this, to Victor, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not if he wanted Victor to have a future.

 _But I want hi_ ㅡ

Yuuri flinched when he heard Victor hum a little, deep in his chest. He didn’t want Victor to find him like this. This close, this emotional, this convinced.

“Morning,” Victor drawled with his eyes still closed and his chest heaving impossibly slow. His heart keeping the same rhythm, the same carefree and relaxed post-coital rhythm. Victor's rhythm.

“M-morning.”

“You know what would have been amazing? For your exhibition?” Victor yawned and stretched, and just like that, his arms had caught Yuuri again. Creating the most excruciating prison.

Yuuri shook his head, an almost invisible movement. He didn’t trust his voice, he realised. It had left a lot to be desired during the last few days, and just kept on doing so. Traveling down that beaten path, full of dangers and ambivalence. Hearing it in his head was enough.

“What if,” Victor said with a smile, his eyes moving underneath his still closed eyelids, “we skated it together? Wouldn’t that have been fantastic?”

  
**~**~**

  
He tried. He tried with his heart set on succeeding but kept getting pulled back in.

The exhibition. His own rendition of _Stammi Vicino._ The last program Victor ever skated would also be his own. His costume, a variation of Victor's. His movements, fueled by the Victor that was living inside him. A perfect quadruple flip, doing without talking, high energy and fake smiles and a coach looking extremely proud. Moved, even. Only, he wasn't his coach now. He wasn't anything to him. He couldn't be.

To think that Victor had suggested that they should skate it together. _Victor, you idiot._

The banquet. He tried to stay close to Phichit, for support and distraction. He refrained from drinking, knowing where it had taken him a year prior. He refrained from talking, knowing that he would make a scene or something worse. But that didn't help, he was ushered towards that apparition in silver and blue with smiles and questions. ‘It's still happening, right?’ ‘You didn't win gold, but you will next season! And then, you'll marry?’

Of course, Victor claimed him. Without a second thought, glance or anything, by putting his arm around his shoulder. Pulling him closer.

Yuuri wasn't sure if Victor had forgotten. Or if he remembered anything at all. He seemed so carefree, unaffected. Like he wasn’t bothered. And then, Yuuri had to remind himself that Victor acted like this for a reason. One that was too painful for himself to acknowledge because he couldn’t do anything about it. Not without saying anything.

_He doesn’t know._

“Um, Victor?” Yuuri stretched his neck a little, motioning Victor to come closer.

“Hm?”

_To say anything or not? To stay there or not? To be brave or not?_

“I’m… I kind of…” _When we get back to Japan,_ “I’m going back. To the room.”

“Already?” Victor glanced at his mobile for a second. “I’m going with you, just let me sayㅡ”

“No, it’s fine. I’m,” _going to tell you that I can’t do this anymore, you and me, because I’m,_ “just going to sleep. I’m not going to be good company, so stay.”

“Oh?” In those blue eyes, something flickered. It was like Victor understood something, but not the truth. Not even a small part of it. “I won’t be long, Yuuri. If you’re awake when I get back, maybe we could…”

Yuuri tried not to see that smile, the one that kept on leading to his undoing. But he felt it, the energy that radiated from Victor. Steeling himself by creating a distance but not getting rid of that arm around his shoulders this time.

“I-I’m going now. When was the flight tomorrow? I know you told me, I’m,” _desperate to protect you, so please don’t be,_ “sorry.”

“We need to be there around one. Sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“No, stay. I want you to have fun. Don’t be,” _difficult,_ “like that.”

With those words Yuuri went back to their room. Feeling Victor’s eyes burning on his back, like he was branded. Like he was his.

* * *

“There you are, sleeping beauty.”

Victor spoke softly. He didn’t want to wake nor disturb the shape he could discern in the darkness further in. Seeing the outline of Yuuri’s back, though clothed, made his heart quicken. Made the need to get close flare up. So, he stepped inside and closed the door to their room. The small rectangle of light got narrower and narrower until it was finally consumed by the dark.

On soundless feet, Victor stepped closer to the bed whilst undoing his necktie, continuing with the buttons of his shirt. He was burning on the inside now, and the removal of his clothes did nothing for the heat that pulsated within, raced through his veins with every heartbeat.

He started to think, no, remember. The congratulating remarks from earlier, the smiling faces when he put his arm around Yuuri for everyone to see, the winks and nudges they’d received in return.

Victor shrugged out of his shirt and continued to undo the belt to his trousers, the button, the fly. He stepped out of the pile of fabric pooling at his feet and got closer to the bed, supporting himself with a palm and a knee against the mattress. Leaning in, he put his nose as careful as he could into Yuuri’s hair and inhaled slowly.

“You know,” he mouthed, barely even hearing his own words, “this isn’t so bad.”

He kissed the top of Yuuri’s head and went to the bathroom. He started an extremely downsized evening routine, with just a face wash and teethbrushing, not doing it thoroughly either. He just wanted to crawl into bed, and wake up on the first day that would be the beginning to the rest of his life.

So, he did. He snuck into bed, underneath the same duvet. Nuzzling in, sharing the same and slightly too narrow mattress. Without a second thought.

But oh, if only Victor had been as perceptive as he normally was. If he only hadn’t missed out on things, developing and evolving right underneath his nose. If only he hadn’t convinced himself that it was so easy, that the events that had taken place on nights prior were better off seen as underplayed. Then, he would have, at least for starters, noticed that he wasn’t the only one awake in that room. And, he would have noticed that his blissful anticipation wasn’t shared, feared rather, by a person not being met where he was. A person that silently let his tears do all the talking when arms embraced him from behind.

 

**~**~**

  
Victor woke up by a soft noise, not needing to think twice what was causing it. He opened his eyes, naturally, and found Yuuri in the process of getting dressed. The brief glimpse he got of Yuuri’s back before it was covered by a sweater, the hem reaching just below his hips, made him smile. The feeling from yesterday, right before he got to bed, immediately called on his undivided attention.

“Morning, Yuuri,” he laughed, only to have it cut of by a muffled groan as he stretched out his arms. “Up already?”

“Yes, I… I couldn’t sleep, so…”

Victor sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Excited to go home, huh? Show your family what you’ve won?”

Yuuri didn’t look, Victor noticed. Not at him or at the small, wiggly gesture he did with his fingers on his right hand.

In an attempt to grab Yuuri’s attention, Victor got out of bed and snuck his hands underneath Yuuri’s shirt. Trying to embrace him from behind and, maybe, get his hands down the front of Yuuri’s jeans.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Yes, there was tension in the muscles Victor had his hands on. Undoubtedly so. Victor knew better than to poke and prod, knew better than to question. Instead, he whispered into Yuuri’s ear, dressing himself in the role of the silent supporter he knew worked best, “Wait a second and I’ll come with you.”

“No,” Yuuri responded, with something strange colouring his voice, “I need to… I have to do this on my own.”

“Hm?”

As Yuuri turned around, Victor felt his hands being removed, strange how often that had started to happen recently, and found himself look into Yuuri’s eyes. The look he was given almost made him stagger. Those eyes, they looked distraught despite being embedded in an emotionless face.

Victor wanted to ask why that was, but decided against it. He knew Yuuri wouldn’t like it, that questions would probably make it worse. So, he decided to cull that impulse. He decided to trust that Yuuri would come to him when he was ready.

“Are you okay?” _That_ was a question Victor felt like he had to ask though, despite what he knew and decided to do just a heartbeat before. A question he desperately needed to know the answer to.

“I…” Yuuri began, suddenly looking away. Down on the floor somewhere. Blinking a few times, behind his glasses.

“Hey…”

“I,” Yuuri began anew, and this time, taking a deep breath before he continued, “will be.”

With a small huff, one out of compassion and empathy for things still unknown to him, Victor touched Yuuri’s bottom lip with his thumb. That soft, suckable velvety piece of flesh. Not knowing why he chose the words he did, they just came to him without any thought at all, he spoke. Hoping to act as the support he knew Yuuri needed.

“Oh, piggy… I know you will.”

* * *

 

He had to collect himself, calm himself down before he continued down the hallway with his sights set on the lifts. Standing there, just outside the door to the room he knew would be the last they ever shared with each other, Yuuri tried to shake off the cloak of hesitation. But it was clingy, stuck to him with a strange power.

 _I need to do this. For me. No, for_ him _. Yes, this is for Victor._

He pulled up the zipper of his coat just a little bit more, before he finally got his feet and legs to work together with the rest of his body. Strange, how every step felt heavy. Not at all similar to when he skated. While skating, everything had been easy, easier at least, with his mind set on proving himself and Victor thatㅡ

Yeah, what was there to prove?

He reached the lift and pressed the button, hoping that he could have the moment it would take to reach the bottom floor to himself. As the lift dinged and the doors opened, he realised that he had no such luck.

The elderly couple nodded at him when he, with a small nod himself, entered the lift and went as far in as he possibly could.

He listened to them, not understanding what they were saying to each other. _Karinyo,_ it sounded like to his Japanese mind. _Miyaruma_ , or something similar, was also used interchangeably between them.

When the lift stopped, Yuuri waited until the couple had walked out before he started his journey. One made with heavy feet and an equally as heavy heart. He headed down the hallway, passed the lobby until he reached the outside.

Waving down a taxi was easy, probably the easiest thing he’d done that morning, but getting inside it made a sense of fear claim him. His knees felt weak, his palms felt hot and cold, and his stomach started to implode. No, it almost devoured itself when he pulled out a thin piece of paper from the pocket of his jeans, squinted to really see the address printed on it and said it out loud to the driver.

He put the piece of paper back into the pocket of his jeans, feeling slightly sick. Slightly trembling. In order to hide his billowing hands, he shoved them down his coat pockets instead.

Feeling the silky surface against his fingertips made him close his eyes, as he counted the seconds and breathed. He’d forgotten that it was there, that small blue box that just a few days earlier had contained a golden promise. One he now knew that he couldn’t keep.

 

**~**~**

 

He spent time tracing back his steps. Taking wrong turns, stopping a little too often to breathe. He knew what he was doing, and pathetically so. Postponing the inevitable by stalling his own body, for his mind was sure. Or at least, he tried to convince himself of the fact.

It was painful, walking down the busy shopping street for it was nothing like last time. Last time, they've had a silly argument over something as trivial as nuts. Last time, Victor had offered him hot wine. Last time, he'd decided that he wanted to buy Victor something and it just happened to beㅡ

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He put his hand inside to fish it out and just looked. Looked at the name displayed on his screen, thinking that this would probably be the last time he would ever see it. To think that all their moments were counted now, and some of them had even ended already.

Holding his breath, he answered. "Hello, this is Yuuri."

"Hi! Coming back soon?"

"Yes, I'm... I'm almost done here soㅡ"

"Oh? Still not done? You'll have to hurry, we are supposed to leave for the airport soon."

"I know. It's just... you go on. Ahead, I mean. I'll... catch up. No, I meanㅡ"

"What are you doing exactly?"

Victor's voice was warm, to Yuuri's amazement. Unknowing. Amused, for he was probably thinking this was a surprise in the making. Yuuri could almost hear him smile through the phone.

"I'm done soon!"

Yuuri didn't mean to lash out like that. He didn't mean to let his feelings flare up like that. He really didn't want them to, because they made it all too obvious. He just wanted to be done with it, because it would make it simpler and more definite. It would tell Victor all the things he needed to know, all the things that he still felt unable to.

After a few seconds of silence, he heard Victor in his ear. Hot and suggestive. Almost making him desperate to hang up, because he couldn't afford to be swayed.

"Hurry back, Yuuri. I... can't wait to see you."

Yuuri closed his eyes, hard. Tried not to think about how those lips probably looked like when they said that. How those blue eyes probably narrowed. How Victor would lean in, squeeze the mobile just a bit harder and wait for his reply with bated breath.

"Can we meet at the airport," he blurted out, killing the tension between them but raising another one within himself.

"Huh? Airport? Well... sure, but... You're not coming here first?"

"I don't think I'll make it in time."

"Hmm... You've packed already, yes?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Victor finally replied. "You need to be there within the next hour and a half, though."

"I... I'll be there. I'm almost done, I just have to..."

"Don't worry. See you at the airport, then. I'll be waiting." Victor chuckled. "Hurry, okay?"

"Y-yeah. See you there. Bye."

"Bye Yuuㅡ"

He hung up before the sentence was finished, quickly putting his mobile back in his pocket. He had to hurry now, he realised, and started to walk through the crowd as if on autopilot. Like his entire being knew where to go.

Of course, it did know where to go. It was the first, or maybe the final, part of his plan. Getting there. Followed by standing outside, mustering up some kind of courage. Strange, how looking through the shop window stirred up other feelings inside him now.

He didn't breathe. He didn't look at anything but his own feet. He didn't think, not anything coherent and useful anyway. The one thing Yuuri did do, though, was to force his hand press down the handle.

Then, he stepped inside.


	15. Prequel: Runaways, part four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, finally, the final installment of Runaways. Incredibly delayed and probably not as anticipated! I lost momentum due to sickness and lack of inspiration over the holidays and have been feeling incredibly rusty ever since, but I hope that you can enjoy the conclusion somewhat at least.
> 
> There's a passage of Victor listening to classical music in one of the paragraphs. I'd like to think that he listens to Gustav Mahler's  _[Adagietto from Symphony no. 5](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWPACef2_eY)_ , alternatively Henryk Górecki's  _[Symphony no. 3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmDuqL23gN0)_. Press play and enjoy the heartbreak.

 

 

Victor looked at his phone. Then up, then back down again. Yuuri was beginning to run uncomfortably late, even by Victor's standards. Realising that made him laugh a little. It was funny, how he, Victor Nikiforov, had to wait for him. It was usually the other way around.

It felt a strange to him, standing in the sea of people crowding around him at Barcelona Airport. The amount of mornings he'd been forced to spend alone during the last eight months were easily counted. Eating breakfast alone, getting ready on his own, not being able to talk about skating… it had become a foreign concept to him. Even though it was a habit only eight months old.

Being Yuuri's coach, lover and now, he felt warm inside thinking about it, fiancée had created something Victor realised that he had failed to fully understand until that moment. He could honestly say he'd missed all of that, and not just on that very morning. The small talk, the unintentional and intentional touches, Yuuri's presence… A life with him. A life he'd spent a lifetime looking for.

But Yuuri had decided to slip out alone that morning. Stating that he needed to do something on his own. Something that he'd found hard for some reason. It had been written everywhere on him, not only in his eyes.

Victor shook the prickly feeling off of himself, and decided to call his missing half, no, his missing whole. Not caring even the slightest that it was probably the seventh time he'd done that already in the last half hour. Holding on to the memories of Yuuri sounding perfectly fine, every single time he'd answered his phone. Slightly on edge, true, but fine.

The sigh happened unintentionally, the small huff of air that escaped through his lips. He just wanted to see him, their meeting in the morning had been to abrupt and too unsatisfactory for his taste, and he couldn't wait. Nor did he want to.

As Victor listened to the signal repeating itself in his ear, his eyes quickly found themselves scanning the people coming thought the entrance to the international departures hall. Trying not to get lost in the movement of the crowd bustling about. Trying to see nothing but  _him_ , once he would appear.

The muted click made him divert his eyes in order to listen more intently. "Hey, Yuuri? Are you around?"

"Yes, I'm here," Victor could hear Yuuri say. The background noise being almost overpowering, almost drowning him out. Making him sound far away. Small for some reason. "Where are you? I can't see you?"

"Let me go to the check-in," Victor replied and looked up to find his way. "You see where that is?"

"Yes, I'm going there. Oh, wait. I see you now."

Victor turned around instantly and broke out into a smile. It was like he was conditioned to do that. To smile, as soon as he saw him, feeling overwhelmed by a warmth and an expanding need. Yuuri was standing ten meters or so away, waving a little as he put his phone back in his pocket.

His body told him to hurry. Hurry to close the distance in between them. Hurry to take what he hadn't been offered in the morning. Hurry to ask how he was. Hurry to ask where he'd been, what he'd been doing. So, he didn't put up any resistance, he just did what his body wanted him to and got close. Found Yuuri and took him in his arms. Found everything else fade around them as he sighed and held on just a little tighter.

"What's this, no hug back?" He said it jokingly as he let Yuuri go, only to reach out to touch his face.

But, his hand never reached what it intended to touch. Instead of finding that cheek, it touched nothing but air as Yuuri took a step back. Putting a hand up, as to excuse himself.

"No, we… we need to hurry, right?"

"Oh, I guess weㅡ"

Victor interrupted himself when Yuuri walked past him and grabbed his luggage.

"You have the tickets, don't you?" Yuuri said it without looking at him, seemingly strangely fascinated by a smudge on his spinner. Rubbing it repeatedly, although it was beyond apparent that it wasn't coming off.

"Yes," Victor replied upon turning around, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. Finding himself making excuses for Yuuri's behavior, their interaction, as his fingers searched the pocket. Only coming to the conclusion that Yuuri couldn't handle stress very well, and he had probably been adding to said stress by constantly calling.

With the tickets in hand, Victor asked, "Shall we check in, then?"

The both of them walked towards the check-in, Yuuri trailing a little behind. Victor suddenly felt compelled to say something, to make Yuuri feel at ease. This wasn't the time to be wrapped up in tension, stress or anxiousness. After all, they were going home. Set on deciding what to do with the ever after. Set on celebrating his silver medal with the rest of his family. So Victor slowed down and waited for Yuuri to catch up to him.

"So," Victor began when they were walking side by side, "you did what you had to?"

"W-what?" Yuuri sounded startled, his eyes somewhat enlarged behind his glasses when they made contact with Victor's blue.

"Earlier? You managed to do what you went out to do?"

"Oh, I…" Yuuri paused, just for a second, before he raised his gaze and looked straight ahead. "I did."

"Okay… and?"

"I, uh…" Yuuri's voice died out as they waited in line, and he didn't continue. Like he'd forgotten what he was about to say. "Oh, it's our turn," he suddenly exclaimed when they were instructed to go to an available counter.

"We'd like to check in," Victor said to the clerk before turning to Yuuri, somewhat puzzled by his standoffishness. "Doing okay?"

"Tickets and passports, please."

"Certainly." Victor gave the clerk a quick smile as he put his passport together with the flight tickets on the counter. "Yuuri? Are you doiㅡ"

Then, Victor felt the world fade again. This time, due to a vastly different reason. One that people on the outside probably thought had to do with something as simple as a passport being put on a counter.

 

**~**~**

 

It felt like falling into the sea. The same shock, the same temporary suspension, the same disconnection from his senses. The same brief instant of deciding between moving upwards or settle in sinking.

Victor had always considered himself to be a fighter. Being a world champion isn't something that a person can achieve for free. Reaching the stop and staying there doesn't have anything to do with luck, he was the living proof of that. Everything he'd ever had, he'd paid for. No matter if it was an exchange made with money, sweat, tears, long nights or early mornings, he had the right to it. All of it. He truly, wholeheartedly, undoubtedly believed that.

But now, he didn't know what to think, so he decided to aim for the surface. Like he always did.

After checking in the bags, he took his and Yuuri's passports and boarding passes in his hand as he tried to make his thoughts slow down. Give Yuuri the benefit of the doubt. Make him explain himself, because there was a possibility that there wasn't anything for him  _to explain_. Or… maybe, there was a possibility that he'd misunderstood what he'd seen. Maybe his mind had played him a trick so cruel that made his mind and body spin out of control, made him react to something completely untrue?

"Which gate is it," Victor heard Yuuri ask as he walked behind him towards the security control. Strange how they kept ending up like that recently. One in front and one behind.

Victor couldn't make himself answer. Instead, his eyes tried to see. His mind tried to make sure. But he never managed to, being constantly interrupted by other people. By himself, as he dropped his coat on the floor. By the metal detector, for he was still wearing his belt.

He saw Yuuri on the other side of the security control, putting on his jacket, gathering up his belongings and putting them his pockets. Yuuri was too far away, details obscured and impossible to see. Victor just wanted to get on the other side andㅡ

"Legs apart, sir. Up with your arms, thank you."

This was wrong. What he thought he'd seen was wrong, the panic inside was wrong, the hands that were on him were wrong.

"Thank you, sir. Don't forget your things."

That too. Why did it feel like a struggle to get to Yuuri, to reach him and be reassured? Why did he had to gather his things, put them back where they were supposed to be when his mind told him that the only thing that mattered was missing? It was wrong, all of it!

"Yuuri?" Victor elbowed himself through the small crowd that were doing the same as him, gathering up things upon things. Painstakingly slow, acting as a strange barrier between him and what he needed to reach.

_Why isn't he stopping?_

"Yuuri!" With his coat over his arm, he tried to put his belt back in the belt loops of his trousers. Not getting it quite right, but not caring the slightest.

_Why?_

"I'm talking to you! Yuuri, stop! Don't walk away from me!"

People around them stopped, if only for a few seconds, Victor noticed. Yuuri had stopped too, three or so paces in front of him.

"Yuuri, what the heㅡ"

"Which gate?"

"What?!" He felt agitated. Panicked. Maybe that shone through, made his voice sound more sharp that it had to be, but Victor couldn't help it. Couldn't help the feeling of being cornered, that his life was at stake. That he had to... yeah, fight for it.

Victor closed the distance between them and managed to get lost in the flapping thoughts inside himself during those few seconds. Thoughts of Yuuri asking about the gate and how silly that was, thoughts of the possibility that Yuuri might not have heard him the first couple of times he called for him, thoughts of Yuuri still being stressed and acting irrational due to him hurrying. Thoughts that, not surprisingly, ended up in uncertainty, that he'd seen something he now wasn't sure of.

When he touched Yuuri's shoulder, it felt electrical. That invisible magnetism the both of them couldn't deny. Usually reassuring but carrying something else with it this time. Something appalling?

"Turn around."

"Victor, we need toㅡ"

"No, you listen. Turn around, do it now!"

It felt like breaking through the surface, seeing him. Those brown eyes, making him leave the cold darkness below. Those lips, making him feel like he could breathe again. That frame of his, like driftwood keeping him from falling.

_Falling._

"Let me see," Victor said through gritted teeth, his hand outstretched, offered to Yuuri.

"See… what, I don'tㅡ"

"Your hand. Let me see your hand." One final imploration, one final way of calming the sea, one final try at treading water. Because, nothing in life is free. Especially not daring,  _living_. That's when you know, really know, that things are at stake. That you need to fight for them.

_Falling?_

Yes, he was losing his grip. Thanks to his eyes that suddenly couldn't blink, look away, unsee what was playing out before him.

Yuuri's hand in his. Not bound to him anymore.

* * *

It was no use delaying the inevitable, although Yuuri had hoped that the inevitable could have waited a little, thinking that Victor would have been better off noticing his bare finger when they'd landed in Japan. Or even later. How puerile and impossible that was.

But hearing the words, the final favor Victor could ever ask of him, he complied. He gave him his right hand and it was met with an enveloping warmth. Soft, it was, Victor's hand around his own. It wasn't gripping him, just held him there. Almost like Victor was carrying something delicate and wounded in his palm.

In a way, he was.

"Where… where is it?" Victor's voice sounded low now, almost inaudible due to the setting. The masses upon masses of people trying to get where they were supposed to be and the noises that naturally followed. "Did you forget to wear it today?"

Yuuri tried not to feel Victor's thumb, the way it was touching his ring finger repeatedly. Searching for metal, but only feeling skin.

It wasn't a question Yuuri found hard to answer. In fact, he felt relieved. If there was one question he'd been wanting Victor to ask, it was that one. He had an answer to it, he'd been practising how to say it, how to steer the conversation to that question and nothing else ever since the night before.

"I did wear it," he started, looking at their hands, his being held by Victor's, "but it's, I… I returned it."

It took a second, maybe slightly longer before Victor's thumb stopped moving. Stopped its feeble attempts of trying to conjure up what was missing. And as it stopped, the grip around Yuuri's hand became firmer.

"Why?"

Yuuri felt a shiver race throughout his skin. He had no more answers, nothing to say, nothing to come up with. Everything he'd been focusing on came back to the question Victor had posed already. Also, he was unsure of Victor, of what would happen, where they would end up. He had tried to prepare himself for that too, see before his inner eye how Victor would react. Yes, he had prepared himself for anger and tears, but this strange calmness was something else. Something horrifying.

_"The boarding of flight eight-seven-two to Frankfurt will begin in twenty minutes. Passengers are advised to go to gate thirty six. Thank you."_

Yuuri gave his hand the slightest pull, a reaction to their flight being announced or maybe to the hardening sensation in his stomach, but the pressure around it made it impossible to free it. At least, not without force.

"Victor, we need to go. The flight, it'sㅡ"

"I know that," Victor replied, still sounding uncomfortably calm, "but I asked you a question."

Yuuri peered up at Victor. As he met his eyes, it felt like time had stopped. Taking them with it, suspending them without mercy. Keeping them in a moment of ultimate realisation, for it was done now. The bond that had tied a unconfident skater together with an unlikely coach, tied a man new at love together with a man desperately seeking for its true meaning, tied two parts of a whole together with a seemingly undisruptive force just… was no more.

_But why does it feel like it's still there?_

Yuuri could see that emotions were rippling underneath Victor's skin. He was tense, there was something off with his jaw. Also, Yuuri noticed, Victor's eyes were tearing up. Not like before though, when he'd announced his retirement that evening in the hotel room. When fear, disappointment and a shadow of doubt had been making them aqueous. No, there was something else behind them now. Something unknown to Yuuri. Something that didn't quite fit, something unsuitable no, uncharacteristic for Victor.

"Well?"

Victor's voice made Yuuri find his way back, back to the here and now. Back to Barcelona Airport where time seemingly had carried on, despite his initial feeling. Back to the torture of being them. But despite time finding its way again, he still didn't know what to say or what to respond so he just shrugged. His body reacting truthfully to what his mind couldn't find an answer to.

It sounded like Victor made a small noise then, something low and animalistic, something that made him sound wounded at best. The way Victor looked away, back into the security control area made Yuuri think that he'd misheard it all. In fact, they were at an airport with a myriad of things, people and situations that sound could have originated from.

_What if it was Victor?_

"You can keep yours," Yuuri heard himself say, as if someone else had taken control over him. Someone without an understanding of the situation. Someone who desperately wanted to cauterise a wound too deep. No, the voice came from someone who just wanted two people to feel that they could somehow endure, but not knowing how to make it so. "Keep it for good luck."

Yuuri felt his hand and arm fall down against his side. It took a few seconds for him to understand that. That Victor had turned around and started to walk, that he had left him there. And in that moment, Yuuri understood something else. The unknown, unsuitable thing he'd seen in Victor.

Walking behind Victor, keeping his distance, Yuuri not only understood. He became sure.

What he had seen was the emotional aftermath of someone feeling completely, utterly defeated. Someone who had allowed himself to let go of what he thought was his.

 

**~**~**

 

They barely spoke after that, although they probably wanted to. The few words shared between them were nothing but necessities, like 'excuse me, going to the bathroom', 'can you throw this away', 'want some coffee too'. Like they were not quite strangers, but far away from being what they were, hours prior. Inside them, at least inside Yuuri, the words his mind wanted him to say were coloured by habit and memories, almost like nothing had happened between them.

But something had indeed happened between them, now impossible to undo, and it was on him. It was his doing that made them sit slightly turned away from each other, with him looking at the wall of the cabin or out the window and Victor at other passengers. It was his doing that every accidental touch felt like fire, but not the kind they previously shared. Instead, it burned and scorched. It lingered, making everything feel so incredibly wrong. Cementing the fact that Victor was not for him. It was his doing that he would probably have to explain things he himself couldn't find words for, once they would get back to Japan and his family.

Tension aside, it wasn't really the words or lack thereof, that made the journey back to Hasetsu excruciating. It was when Victor had fallen asleep after three or so hours in the air between Frankfurt and Tokyo, and his head automatically found Yuuri's shoulder. When Victor's hand, heavy and warm, ended up on his thigh. When Yuuri found himself wanting to stay in that bubble, wanting to reciprocate that touch. But also, wondering what he would do when he would fall asleep. Maybe, just maybe, his body would stay in the frame of his seat and not wander. But oh, how he wanted it to. How he wanted sleep to act as the best possible excuse for him to do what he knew he couldn't anymore.

Listening to Victor's deep breaths, slowly exhaled against the side of his neck, made Yuuri feel a vibration inside, something that instantly made him feel weepy. He battled conflicting thoughts being that close to Victor, swaying between feeling that he had the right to mourn what now was lost to him and that other thought, the not so becoming one. That he had nothing but himself to blame and should take the consequences. Take it like a man and move on.

After all, he could have said no on that day in April. No to being coached.  _No to Victor._

With a sigh, he closed his eyes. Wondering if he could ever forgive himself for leaning his head against Victor's, for being so inappropriately close. For inhaling Victor's scent, for embarrassingly enough wishing for it to be on him. For hoping that sleep would come and claim him and fast, for he wanted to be somewhere where he didn't have to abide to rules, worry about bad decisions made. Just be somewhere, where he could pretend that nothing had changed.

* * *

When they finally reached Hasetsu, it was late afternoon. Bordering early evening. Japan was still the same, despite what had happened between them.

It was a silly thought, really, thinking that the world somehow would acknowledge that, the decisions made in Barcelona but nevertheless, Victor sought comfort in that thought. It felt soothing to think that they could be watched over by something vast, by something that must possess all answers. Maybe, it would share its insights if he wished for it hard enough. Then again, probably not. The world, maybe even the universe, had shown that it didn't care for love and those in desperate need of it. That much had become clear to him.

"So, uh," Victor started as they could see Yutopia in the distance, "I'm not… I mean, I'm going to give you space. I won't be in your way."

The first coherent sentence since they left Barcelona and  _that_ was all he could come up with?

"Mhm," came Yuuri's muffled reply.

Inside, the was another voice trying to make itself heard. One demanding answers, one that kept on telling him to hold on, to grab Yuuri and not let him go until everything had been said. Until everything had been fixed. But, that was too late now, especially since they were basically on the threshold of Yuuri's family home. Yuuri's moment of truth, coming at them at an alarming speed.

Victor decided that he wouldn't be that person. The one making things difficult, asking questions, making demands. So he strangled that voice inside him with a small sigh, hoping that he'd culled that persistent nuisance of a voice that, painfully enough, was making too much sense.

No, he would keep to himself, he figured. Be present in body but not in mind. Offer enough fake smiles to the Katsuki family for them to believe that everything was fine, the decision made… mutual.

He heard Yuuri open up the front door. The sliding door that had previously carried nothing but positive connotations with it, the sound of being home. Now, it didn't wake that feeling inside Victor. If anything, it made him feel out of place. Lost without comparison.

The noises from inside as Yuuri stepped through the door were ear-deafening, and to Victor's amazement, they continued when he stepped inside. He thought it would be different, he'd pictured the Katsukis stare and grow completely silent upon his arrival.

It felt strange to him, getting hugs. Attention. Love. The warmth of the Katsuki family and friends was still there, trying its best to envelop him. How could he possibly accept that, give it back? He didn't belong to that setting now, he was sticking out. Feeling like a stranger. How strange that they would just take him in, despite Yuuri's decision.

_"Yuuri, tell Vicchan that this is for him too!"_

The sound of Hiroko's voice made him take in his surroundings. Hiroko sounded delighted, to Victor's horror, making him understand the larger picture. She didn't know. On the other hand, what  _did_ she know?

Victor was sure that she knew that the kiss on national TV started it all. She knew of shared beds. She'd seen him put his arm around her son, how they had shared kisses when thinking they were alone. She probably knew that they'd shared more than that, cleaning Yuuri's room when they were away at competitions. Yes, Hiroko knew all that, without a doubt. But, did she know that they'd made promises to each other? Promises that her son had broken just the same? Promises that made Victor think that Yuuri, heㅡ

_"What do you mean, mom?"_

_"It's Victor's birthday soon! We want to celebrate him as much as you!"_

"Victor?" Yuuri said with without looking at him. Almost as he was addressing thin air. "Mom wants to tell you that this is for you too."

"I-I'm sorry?"

"This. It's… for your birthday."

ㅡhadn't been truthful. Not even to himself.

 

**~**~**

 

Victor retired early, using jet lag as the blame for his uncharacteristically low spirits.

He knew that he hadn't been much of a company by keeping to himself like that, barely touching his drink, smiling when necessary but not much else. He knew that he hadn't been himself, but worrying about how he had been perceived throughout the evening felt immensely obsolete. Come to think of it, everything did, now that his moments were counted.

He'd been asked by Minako to say something, something about his and Yuuri's time together, and all he could come up with was something generic. Something without the passion and soul, something without all those words he actually wanted to say. But he'd kept it civil, because as the night progressed, the inevitable questions inevitably came like he'd expected them to. The ones about the future. He'd passed them over to Yuuri with some indistinct excuse, not staying long enough to demand or become offered an answer, although he wanted to. But he knew he couldn't bear to hear what Yuuri was about to say, no matter how he would phrase it or in what language.

With Yuuri's unintelligible explanation of their future in Japanese following him, he'd returned to the room where he previously had spent countless nights alone. With Makkachin as his only company and classical music in his ears, the thoughts came crashing in. Just like the last time he could remember spending time alone in that room. But instead of branching out, like his thoughts more than often did when he was alone, they stayed focused on only one thing.

_Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri._

For an entire year, he'd been thinking about Yuuri. It had been comforting before, allowing his mind to travel back to a drunken dance, clothes being shed and an offer he'd waited too long to take up on. Now, he wanted to wean himself off it, the only thing that had mattered, the only thing that made him feel that retirement maybe wasn't as daunting as it had seemed at first.

Again, that dark haired beauty had proved how easily he could turn his life upside down. For all the wrong reasons, this time.

Victor pulled out one of the earbuds and listened. Seemed like the inn had simmered down. Some muted voices were still heard outside his room, but as far as he could tell, they belonged to Toshiya and Hiroko. That meant they were probably cleaning up and that the festivities were over, giving him an opportunity to go outside without having to meet anyone.

"Makkachin, want to go out?"

The poodle looked at Victor from the corner of his eye and slowly wagged its tail, apparently saying yes to the proposition.

"Come then."

Victor got out of the bed and quickly headed for the front door. He noticed that Hiroko saw him as he passed the main room. She smiled and nodded at him, which he reciprocated in a similar fashion, despite feeling a sting inside.

To think that all of the things he'd come to love were to be taken away, so easily. It wasn't just about Yuuri, it was all the things that came with him. His family. His friends. Hasetsu. The feeling inside Victor that made him feel settled.

Victor put his coat on, then his shoes and ushered Makkachin outside with a sigh. He decided to stand and wait for the dog to finish relieving itself, and leaned a little against the outer wall with his hands in his pockets.

He realised that he had to leave, but why did it feel like his heart was stuck to this place? Why had St. Petersburg faded during these eight months, and why had Hasetsu gained colour?

"Shit," he said under his breath. The feeling, that tremble in his throat, only started to build as his hand gripped the mobile phone in his pocket.

He knew he needed to leave, and this time, make a decision based on reason.

* * *

' _The future? Um, well… I… I… this was my last competition as a professional skater. At least, that's what Victor and I decided. He's not going to coach me.'_

' _Oh… Victor? He's… he's going back. Back to Russia. He needs to think about his career too. I… I've borrowed him long enough.'_

' _As I said, Mari, they were just a token of my appreciation. I wanted to thank him and_ ㅡ'

' _He was kidding. They weren't engagement rings. You know Victor, he's…'_

_Everything._

' _...he's got a strange sense of humor at times. He thought it was funny and… I'm sorry. For not saying anything, back then.'_

Yuuri exhaled. They just kept on looping, those questions. That conversation from yesterday evening. But it was done now, his immediate family knew what he and Victor also knew. The only difference was that he and Victor never… said anything about it. At least, not to each other.

Yuuri wondered if they had to. If they had to bring it up, the overhanging fact that Victor was going to leave. Continue with his life on hold, because of him taking over. Maybe, it didn't matter if they did or not. It wouldn't change anything after all. But… he needed to know when.

He sat up in his bed and reached for his glasses. With a sigh, he put them on, brushing away some strands of hair that got stuck in between the rims and his face. He sighed, for the world became clear again.

Yeah, he needed to know when, but it felt not only strange to bring it up with Victor. It felt excruciating. Unthinkable to bring up because that would make it real.

That voice inside him, that voice that usually reminded him of all of his worries and fears time and time again, did nothing to help. Neither did that new voice, the one that wanted him to suck it up and carry on, anything to relieve him of that indescribable feeling they had brought on within.

It was a sudden influx, but Yuuri considered if it was possible to avoid Victor until he'd left. If he could stay holed up in his room, without having to see him but still knowing when he would return to Russia. He could eat at different times, or not at the inn. It was doable. He could probably sneak out to skate too, if given a possibility. Just to kill time.

Logic spoke to Yuuri then, or rather, took him over. It battled his self hatred and self blame and became a winner, at least for the time being. And just like that, it became decided. He would ask Victor when, and he was going to be around him for as long as he was there. Act as normal as possible. After all, that would give Victor some peace of mind. Knowing that it was okay betweenㅡ

He put his hands over his mouth, muffling the small cry that fought its way out of him. And just like that, Yuuri felt Logic slowly lose its dominion over him.

 

**~**~**

 

It took a while for Yuuri to dare to go downstairs. The fear of meeting Victor was almost as palpable as the fear of his feelings faltering, showing, telling all and everyone that he'd spent a good hour letting them get the best of him.

As he came down the stairs, he glanced in the direction of Victor's room. The sliding doors were open, but he couldn't see him. He felt ashamed for feeling relieved, but it was almost as a battle was won, not seeing Victor first thing. Something that could keep him together for a little while longer.

"Morning," Toshiya said as they passed each other, Yuuri heading for the dining room and Toshiya for the kitchen.

"Morning, Dad. I was more tired than I thought," Yuuri said, trying to laugh a little to make it sound natural but feeling somewhat embarrassed for getting out of bed at lunchtime. "Um… where's Victor?"

"Victor? He was carrying things outside last I saw him."

Why did his heart throb so hard, why was it pumping ice into his veins? Yuuri felt frozen, taken over by wave upon wave of chills, and only managed to bleat, "Th-things?"

"Yes, he has a lot of things here so it's good he started already. Some were supposed to be picked up today, I think your sister said? The things up in the storage room." Toshiya corrected his glasses a little before he added, "I think it's sad that you're retiring, son. This season has been good for you. I need to, you know..."

"Yes, I… I know. Are… are you sure he's outside?"

"I think so. Go check."

There weren't many steps to take in order to get outside, but to Yuuri, walking to Sapporo felt like an easier task. So, he stood there for a while before he dared to take a few steps towards the front door, naturally stopping in front of Victor's, no, the old banquet room.

_He's really leaving!_

The image was overwhelming. There were quite a few boxes inside, already taped up and labelled in Cyrillic. Victor had packed some of the lamps that previously stood next to the bed, the matryoshkas, some of the books. Almost all his clothes. Instantly, Yuuri felt it again, that flood of ice coursing through him, making him unable to do anything but stare.

Of course, the front door had to slide open at that exact time. Making his heart cease to beat, for Yuuri didn't have to look to know who was looking at him from across the hall. He didn't have to look, for there was something about Victor's presence that resounded within him, telling him a million things without the use of words. It was still the same, although this time, he couldn't make anything out. It was a cacophony, an apparent discord between them.

Yuuri heard Victor hang up his coat and take off his shoes before he stepped up from the genkan, but he still couldn't look his way. It was as if the image of the boxes buried itself into him, burned itself onto his retina.

"Sorry," he heard Victor say, as he walked past him, accidentally brushing against his arm.

Yuuri had to breathe through Victor's touch. His body wanted to react, wanted to reach out to Victor as he passed, but those voices inside himself, that arguing troika, made him fixed in the same position.

"I…" Yuuri started, realising that his voice was too weak. He cleared his throat a little, and saw Victor continue to pack that bust by that Greek sculptor he never remembered the name of. "Victor, I…"

"I'm packing, Yuuri."

Hearing Victor speak his name made the spell of immovability fade, allowed him to use his body again. So, he carefully took three steps, or possibly four, until he stood outside Victor's room. In the doorway, looking in.

"I can… I… don't… I can help you. If you want."

"Thank you, but I'm almost done."

"Oh…" Yuuri broke the divide made by that doorway and picked up a book on his way inside. "I never asked you why you brought so many books."

_Why can't you just turn around?_

Yuuri felt disappointed by Victor's standoffishness, but he couldn't quite find the reason why. Maybe, he wanted to show Victor that he was okay. That he could talk to him, somewhat at least, and not turn into a snively idiot that cried, preferably in bathroom stalls. Maybe, he wanted to show Victor that they could part on somewhat agreeable terms. Maybe, and this hurt him when he realised it, he wanted Victor to turn around just to make himself a memory. A memory of Victor Nikiforov, the Russian living legend and his childhood idol, standing opposite him. Standing inside his home with his blue eyes looking at him, smiling at him, one last time.

But, that didn't happen. Instead, Victor got down on his knees and continued with packing. Books this time.

"Here," Yuuri whispered and reached the book down, over Victor's shoulder.

"I had a feeling you were a late sleeper," Victor said, his voice mellow as he took the book, inspected the title with a sigh and put in inside the box with the others.

"What?"

"Why I brought so many books. I thought I would get the time to read."

"But… you brought so manㅡ"

Yuuri cut himself off before he could finish the sentence. It became clear to him that Victor had planned to  _stay_.

"Yeah," Victor whispered from down below, his head bent over the box.

"Victor, I… I wanted to ask you when..." Yuuri paused and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the question he feared to ask but knew he had to. "I wanted to ask you when you are leaving."

Victor stopped what he was doing and sat quiet for a while. Yuuri wasn't sure that Victor had heard the question, or maybe he had but didn't think that Yuuri was worthy of a reply. Either way, Yuuri prepared to repeat the question, now that it finally had been voiced.

Just as Yuuri drew breath to steel himself for a second take, Victor interjected. "Tomorrow," he said. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Yuuri's hand automatically covered his mouth. He was going to keep his promise to himself, to not become emotional. He would show Victor that he was okay. He would show Victor that he was free from the shackles of Yuuri Katsuki, free to make what he wanted of his life and nurture the rest of his career.

So they remained like that, the former coach on his knees with his head bent and the former student with his mouth covered, waging battles of their own.

When they finally spoke, after what seemed as an indescribable silence, it was Yuuri who took the initiative.

"Will… will you please find me before you go?"

Yuuri saw Victor nod over his box, nothing more.

"Good. Then I'll… I'll see you tomorrow."

Without a word, Yuuri left and headed for his room. Head bent down as he quickly walked across the hallway and up the stairs, closing the door behind him and finding solace by burying his face in the pillow. Deciding not to leave the sanctity within those four walls. Somehow thinking that he was the only one hurting.

But down below, hunched over a box of books, someone else was hurting too. Weeping soundlessly into his hands with tears landing of the cover of a book depicting a story about love. A love just like this.

* * *

That night, Yuuri slept horribly, if anything at all. He fell into a strange state of being partially awake, and kept checking his phone out of fear. Every time he awoke, it felt like he'd been sleeping for hours when in reality, nothing more than, say, fifteen minutes had passed. But it was better that way, he reasoned with himself in that far from lucid state. Sleeping in would mean that he would walk down those stairs straight into a paradigm shift, one he needed to experience for himself in order to cope.

When he finally gave in to his anxiousness, he once again looked at his phone and decided that trying to sleep once more was a luxury he couldn't afford. It was dark outside, still, when he crawled out of bed, got dressed and walked down the stairs on soundless feet.

It wasn't a surprise that no one else was awake, that the inn was silent and shrouded in darkness. To Yuuri, it didn't matter. Or rather, he liked it this way. This way, he could sit and wait. Be alone with his thoughts, making plans about what to say and what to do, once Victor would emerge from his room. Also, doing something actively felt better than tossing and turning in bed, even though sitting and staring intently at that pair of sliding doors across the room wasn't really making him any less worried or active.

The morning crept on, brought with it daylight and activity. With it came the surprise his family got when they found him sitting in the dining hall, accompanied by nothing but a cup of tea and the local paper from a few days back, with a photo him and Victor on the front page. The one taken in China.

"Are you awake already?" his mother asked, not even trying to mask the tone in her voice after both his sister and father had made astonished and unbelieving noises.

He just nodded in response. Somehow, it felt ridiculous that the one time he was up before his family was due to a reason that wasn't attributed to them. Not even the slightest. In fact, they didn't matter right now but he knew they would. When Victor was gone, they would.

"Mom," Yuuri said hesitantly after searching her out in the kitchen, "do you know when Victor's leaving?"

"No. He tried to tell me but…" She shook her head a little, probably referring to the ever present language barrier when three languages collided. Two of which she couldn't understand.

"Oh," Yuuri said, trying to decide if he dared to take a shower or not. Then again, Victor had given his word but knowing his fickle nature… No, he wouldn't. Not now. He would seek him out. He had to.

"Mom, I'm going to take a shower," he declared. "Can you ask dad to get me if Victor gets up?"

His mother nodded and gave him a smile. One he would have preferred not to have seen because it was the kind of smile a mother makes when she  _knows_.

 

**~**~**

 

Yuuri had his shower in peace. Or rather, he wasn't bothered.

Standing in the shower, he just listened as the stream of water collided with the top of his bent down head. He listened for footsteps, a knock on the door, maybe a voice calling out, but the only sound he could hear was the hiss of the shower, the myriad of drip-drops when water leaped off his body and onto the floor.

Strange, how such a simple thing like taking a shower could be tied up like that. Tied up in audiovisual memories. If this had been a normal day, any day before Barcelona, Victor would be there with him. Either waiting for his turn or crowding the shower with him. Victor would shampoo his hair, put a dollop of foam on his nose and gently blow it off. Afterwards, Victor would dry his hair with a towel, not minding the soft reprimands to wait until he had put on underwear. Victor would give some ambiguous comment about how he looked, making him blush. And then, they would go out together, curious to see what the day would bring.

 _But this isn't a normal day_ , Yuuri thought to himself as he turned the water off and reached for his towel.

As he was drying himself off, he started to wonder how a 'goodbye' could possibly feel like. He'd only lived through a few in his life, two as a matter of fact. The first one was when he went to Detroit, leaving his family as a nineteen year old, the second was when he left Detroit at twenty three, leaving not only a friend behind but his aspirations of becoming someone who could stand on the same ice as Victor.

But, saying goodbye to family and friends wasn't the same as saying goodbye to someone that had taken him over, filled him up in ways he couldn't possibly explain. Not even to himself.

Yuuri pulled his sweater over his head and put on his jeans, folding the towel up neatly.

No, this wasn't the same. Not at all. He had been filled with emotions then, those two times prior, but now, it felt like he was fighting himself. A part of him telling him to let it all out, another scolding him for even thinking that, making him feel caught in something revolving, something that went both high and low.

As he exited the shower area, he heard footsteps coming down from the stairs leading up to his room. He waited in the doorway and saw Victor come down, rounding the corner as he headed towards the dining hall with his hands in his pockets.

His first impulse was to go back in, close the door and sit down. His second was to call out, call Victor's name to get his attention. His third was the one he went with, to just go to him andㅡ

"Were you looking for me?"

Blue eyes gave him the briefest contact before they turned away.

"Yes, I was."

"I… I asked dad to get me when you were up but I guess heㅡ"

"I told them to wait."

"But… you went up to my room?"

"Mhm."

They stopped, just outside Victor's,  _no_ , the old banquet room. Side by side, not facing each other. Breaths and rustling clothes playing their requiem.

"So…" Victor started.

"So…" Yuuri replied.

"About social media?"

"Oh. I… follow me if you want."

"Will you reply?"

"I… I don't know."

"Hm. Texts, then?"

"Please let me know when you're home. In St. Petersburg."

"Can I keep your number?"

"Victor…"

"Right. I'm sorry."

They glanced at each other then, and for a moment, just as long as it takes to feel a heartbeat, it felt like before. The feeling he always got when blue eyes looked into his, when something resembling a supernova smile came and went.

"The rest of my things, theyㅡ"

"Yeah. Later this week. Or so I heard. Have you eaten?"

"Yes."

"Do, no, I mean, are you…"

"Yes. Soon."

Yuuri fisted his hands. He wasn't sure what he had pictured this to be. This goodbye. For that was what they were doing, he figured. They were trying to find the appropriate words fitting their last scene, the history of them coming to a close.

 _What if I'll miss you_ , he wanted to ask. He wanted to ask that, and a myriad of other questions, but he choked that impulse even though it felt alarmingly close to explode out of him.

"Are you taking the train," he asked instead, trying to forget all those questions he wanted answers to.

"No. Taxi this time." Victor put his hand in the pocket of his trousers and fished out his mobile, looked at the time and put it back. "You Japanese like being on time, so…"

When Victor's finger closed around his own, he felt faint. When Victor's fingers closed around his hand, his heart stopped. When Victor's lips touched the back of his hand, he wanted to cry. Cry and fall into his arms and make it all undone. But that wasn't the way of Yuuri Katsuki. When Yuuri Katsuki decided on something, it was set in stone.

So was this.

"I need to go," Victor said then, loosening up his grip around Yuuri's hand. "Makka,  _come._ "

"Victor, before you go…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For this. For the time you gave me, for being my coach," Yuuri blurted out, bowing deeply with his eyes tightly pinched together. "Thank you for making me win silver. Thank you for… for believing in me."

"Thank you, Yuuri. For allowing me to."

Yuuri could do nothing but watch as Victor patted Makkachin before he directed his eyes and attention elsewhere, before he went off to say goodbye to the rest of the Katsuki family.

It felt unfair. The way his family so easily did what he wanted to, with the tears, the hugs, the pats on Victor's cheek. The gift Victor was given and graciously accepted with a smile that looked genuine despite it all. Why wasn't that for him?

His entire family followed Victor to the genkan, silently watching as Victor put on his shoes and coat. Yuuri stood behind them, a few steps further in. It felt safer. Safer but harder.

"I'll be going," Victor declared, sliding the door open and wrangling both Makkachin and a bag.

" _Please come back,"_  Yuuri heard his family say in unison.

Victor seemed to smile at the pleasantry, dropping his bag on the ground outside before touching the frame of door with his fingers. And with a hissing sound made by the sliding door closing, Victor Nikiforov was gone.

Further in, still standing in the exact same spot despite his family dispersing, Yuuri let out a small whimper. Trying to talk himself into believing that the last eight months, the look Victor had given him just seconds before, the feeling of immense loss in his chest, were all real. Not gone, pretended or lost with something so simple as a door closing in front of him.

 

**~**~**

 

Almost twenty four hours later, a text message popped up on the screen of Yuuri's mobile phone. It was short, nothing more than four words long, but when Yuuri saw it he went straight to his closet.

Sitting with the hidden stack of posters of Victor in his lap, he felt tears welling up. Not because of the fact that he had decided to throw them away, not at all, but because of the fact that on one of them, there was a message.

Written with exquisite penmanship.

Just as short as the text message on his phone.

 

 

**-the end-**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Crashing Autopilot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466466) by [TenchiKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenchiKai/pseuds/TenchiKai)




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